


Fable Forever

by MiraNoel



Category: Fable 3 (Video Game)
Genre: Action & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiraNoel/pseuds/MiraNoel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Is eternal youth really a gift; or a curse?</p>
<p>After a brief liaison with the Princess, Reaver disappears suddenly. When she sets out on a quest to find him she soon discovers his deepest secrets and a plot that leaves the fate of Albion hanging in the balance. In a race against time she faces sabotage, makes surprising allies and a dangerous foe pretending to be a friend. Can she save both Reaver and Albion or will all be lost in this thrilling adventure about the redemption of Albion's most hated Industrialist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue:The Sacrifice

Prologue: The Sacrifice

 

A handsome young man stood before three hooded figures. He was in the Shadow Realm; home of the Shadow Court. The leader of the Shadow Court spoke; his voice cold and menacing. “Why are you here mortal? What do you want?” The young man shook with fear. The voice of the Shadow Court judge sent a chill down his spine. “I want to live forever. Immune to disease and age. And death.” In his hand a black and twisted seal appeared; the sharp spikes drew blood from his hand. The seal glowed black and red for a moment; pulsating as though it were alive. “It is done.” The young man looked up at the Shadow Court judges. “You will be spared the effects of time and death. So long as you bring a sacrifice to this realm every year on the anniversary of this night.” The man nodded in understanding, one person a year wasn’t so bad was it? Not a terrible price to pay. “Now leave and know that if the sacrifices should ever stop; the shadows of this realm will come for you.”

He ran through the woods as fast as his long legs would carry him; the Dark Seal still clutched in his hand. He had to tell her; Rebecca. Now they really could be together forever. He came out of the woods expecting to find Oakvale; his home. Peaceful and beautiful as always. He looked in horror at the sight before him. Oakvale was burning; the sound of screams filled the night air as the villagers ran for their lives. Men, women and children killed before him by…Shadows! It was his fault; he had done this. He had brought this horror upon his home, his friends, and his family. Oh god! Rebecca! He had to find her. He ran through the town he had condemned searching frantically. He stopped suddenly, her voice. He’d heard it for sure; cutting through the screams of his numerous victims. “Rebecca!” He screamed; running. Running toward the last house in town; his home, their home. When he rushed through the door she threw her arms around him. 

“What’s happening?” she asked as he held her. He looked at her; his guilt written in his eyes. She looked down at the blood covered seal in his hand. “What did you do?” she backed away from him; tears flowed freely down her pale rose cheeks; horror and grief reflected in her eyes. “Rebecca” he said softly as he reached for her. “Don’t touch me!” she cried. “Rebecca my love. Please.” Suddenly her face turned grey with age, and her hair turned white. She fell into his arms; the Shadow Judges appeared. “This is not what I wanted!” He screamed as Rebecca lay dying in his arms. He threw the seal at the judges. “Take it back! Undo what you have done! I don’t want it! The price is too great!” “We cannot undo what YOU have done.” “Please.” He begged; tears falling freely from his sapphire eyes.

“We cannot. Know this. This is the price you have paid for the gift of eternal youth. If you do not continue to pay we shall come and take all of Albion with you.” He hung his head in despair as the judges disappeared into the darkness. His dark hair hung in his eyes as he held Rebecca close. Her form cold and hard and dead. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry.” The sound of his voice faded into the night; and he cried; for the last time he cried.


	2. Sophie

300 Years Later

 

Reaver sits in front of the fireplace in his study; stretching out his long legs more comfortably. He sips wine from an ornate glass chalice as he stares out onto the bright morning rays glistening on the crystalline waters of Bower Lake. How long would these nightmares haunt him? How often in his life would his thoughts return to Oakvale, to that night; to her? He stood; walking to the window. The smell of the lilander flowers in his garden wafting through the open window. The delicate scent taunted him; chastised him, forcing him to remember things best left forgotten. Ah, if only he could forget. Forget everything and just be Reaver. Just be the mask he had created long ago. But that mask was faltering; and he was so weary of life. Maybe I should have one of the servants burn the lilanders and be rid of them forever. The thought passed quickly as though it had never been.

Suddenly he was torn out of his reverie by a familiar voice. “You’re losing your touch old man.” He turned to the source smiling. Devon was such a welcome presence in his life. “It used to be I’d have a gun in my face by now.” Devon laughed his grey eyes sparkling with youth. True youth; a youth Reaver had not possessed in such a long time. “What brings you here to my humble abode Devon?” he asked. After all he had not seen Devon in such a long time. “Not bored are you?” Devon laughed lounging lazily behind Reaver’s desk. “There is far too much to do in the world to ever be bored.” “Well, we’ll see how you feel in a century or so.” Reaver sighed; placing his empty glass on the shelf beside him. His butler walked in looking rather nervous as he spoke to his master. “Master Reaver.” “Yes what is it James.” “Well it seems…well that is…” “What! Spit it out already!” Reaver shouted quickly losing his patience with the sputtering simpleton. “The workers have called up a strike at the recycling plant. They say they won’t work until they get a raise.”

Reaver pulled his gun out of its holster and fired. The man fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap; dead. Reaver’s nose wrinkled in disgust, how frail mortals were. So easily killed. He rang the servant’s bell. Two pretty little maids hurried in “Clean this up.” He ordered; waving his hand flippantly as the maids hurried with their task. “Have you ever heard the saying don’t shoot the messenger?” Devon asked unfazed by the incident. Reaver left the room stepping over the body as he did so; Devon close behind. “So where are we headed?” he asked as Reaver grabbed his hat and cane; opening the front door. 

Reaver turned to his friend. “We? We are going nowhere. I have errands to run before going to the castle to see the king. You are staying here.” “As if I’m staying here. I came for a visit and you would be a very poor host if you just left me by myself all day.” Devon said as the carriage pulled up to the stoop. “I’m sure you could find some way to entertain yourself.” Devon looked back at one of the pretty maids as she walked past “Oh, I’m sure I could. But there is always time for that later. I want to see what you’ve been up to since my last visit.” Devon crawled into the carriage beside Reaver grinning stubbornly. “Fine.”

Devon found out quickly that the day-to-day life of his friend had become quite dull over the last twenty years. He also noticed that behind the eternally youthful face Reaver looked haggard and weary. It worried him. He had always known Reaver to have a certain zest for life; that seemed to be gone now. It made him seem almost…old. Reaver dealt with the strike quickly; telling the workers that if they didn’t get back to work immediately they could all go find work elsewhere. Apparently jobs were few and far between; so they went back to work. Nothing of much interest really happened at all. “Why are you doing this?” “Why am I doing what?” Reaver asked; looking over some seemingly important paperwork. “The whole business tycoon thing?” Reaver looked up from his papers. “You can’t possibly need the money.” “Piracy grew dull. I needed something else to occupy my time.” Reaver said blandly; his eyes returning to the work before him.

Devon stared at his friend; wondering. Was this going to happen to him as well? In three hundred years would he lose his zest for life? He never fully understood Reaver. Reaver had always felt a certain but well-hidden guilt about his immortality. Devon had never felt any guilt at all. After all, he didn’t want to die. Personally he thought it was a pretty fair trade. He had asked Reaver about his dealings with the Shadow Court once. Reaver shot him in the leg. He never brought it up again. But still, he didn’t like the change in Reaver. It was unbecoming and a little frightening. 

Devon was forced out of his reverie as Reaver stood. “I have to go to the shipyard to oversee some shipments. Stay here.” Reaver looked at the dejected expression spreading over Devon fiery features. A thought struck and he smiled. “Or rather, why don’t you go visit the tavern in Bowerstone Market? I’m sure you’ll be able to find something of interest there.” Of course Devon would find something to entertain him; if only briefly. Probably some pretty tavern wench; and of course she’d be more than willing. Devon reminded Reaver of himself in that regard. He was handsome and vain; cringing at the very thought of cutting his fiery red locks. Devon perked up immediately, “Good plan old friend, but why not join me?” Reaver sighed “Just go Devon; I’m too busy for your games.” 

Devon looked appalled. Too busy for his games. But Reaver was the one who had taught him to play these games in the first place. Devon knew one thing though; once his friend had made up his mind that was it. There would be little chance of changing it. “Alright.” He conceded. “But you have to take me to the castle with you later.” “Excuse me.” Reaver questioned; cocking an eyebrow. “Well, the last time I came to Bowerstone the king was your old friend Sparrow. I want to meet the new king. Logan isn’t it.” “It isn’t. He was overthrown by his brother Roren.”

“Oh, a coup de tat. You didn’t have anything to do with that, did you?” “Actually, I didn’t. Now go. Be off with you. Chop chop.” Reaver watched as Devon left; a soft sigh of relief escaping his lips. Oh how he did adore Devon so. But the child could still be such a bother sometimes. He often wished Devon would visit him more often. Immortality is so much more bearable when one has company. He had thought of Sparrow often since his youngest son had taken the throne seven years ago. Sparrow had been a dear friend; and Reaver did not think so of many. Reaver sighed once more; leaving his office and headed for the shipyards.

The king sat in the war room; overseeing the various demands within the kingdom. He smiled as his daughter Sophie ran about the room; pretending to be…well who really ever knew with Sophie. She briefly stopped her game to smile at him. Her dark curls falling out of the braids that kept them at bay. He watched as she ran out of the room to go terrorize the staff; her dress not at all flattered by the toy gun tied to her waist. Where on earth did she find all that energy? He often grew exhausted just watching her. Perhaps he was just getting old.

“Your Majesty.” The king broke away from his thoughts and turned to Jasper. “Yes Jasper.” “Reaver and Page are here to see you. Apparently that cad has some proposal of what to do about Bowerstone’s overfilled prisons.” The king laughed. Of course he did. No matter what problem Albion was faced with; there was Reaver. With some morally ambiguous solution. “Tell them I’ll be there shortly. And ask them if they could please try to maintain a certain level of civility until I arrive.” “Yes of course your majesty.” Jasper bowed before leaving the war room. The king sighed; his head already aching. As strange as it was; he considered Reaver to be as dear a friend as Page. Albeit a rather irritating friend; but still. He hated listening to the two of them argue. He left the war room and headed toward the throne room; not at all looking forward to the task at hand.

“Your majesty…” Reaver said flamboyantly. Devon tried not to laugh at his friend. After all, that would be rude. With all of Albion’s nobility here watching. But still…it was pretty funny; at least to him. And at least here Reaver seemed a bit more like himself. “The prisons of Albion are overflowing. With resources.” Reaver all but cooed; in a sickeningly sing song voice. “Why should the people of Albion pay for their care when they can pay for it themselves? Through labour. Have them work in the hobbe infested mines of Albion. They’ll earn their keep and fill the treasury at the same time.” “That’s just monstrous your majesty.” Page cried out. “These people need to be rehabilitated; not enslaved. Improve the living conditions in the prisons. Better food and a source of education for the prisoners. So that when they are freed they have the tools to make better lives for themselves.” Reaver looked at Page mockingly “But why risk the lives of good people who have done no wrong; when we have perfectly good useless cretins by the dozens sitting in Albion’s prisons.” “You selfish vain monstrous pig!” “I have been called worse; and by far better people than you my sweet.” Reaver retorted; smiling.

“Enough.” They both looked up at the king; who was now standing. “We shall follow through with Page’s plan…” The king stopped mid sentence; as he stared at his fleeing daughter. Reaver and Page turned. Princess Sophie was running through the halls; Reaver’s hat clutched in her small fingers. 

Laughter echoes through the castle halls; followed by the frantic running of servants and guards. The soft clacking of a cane on marble floors ringing in the air. Sophie runs through Devon’s legs as he flirts with one of the maids. “What the…” He stares after her; laughing. As Sophie evades the capture of several guards she slams into something. She looks up to see a tall man staring down at her. His sapphire eyes reflecting the light that filters in through the stained window panes. He helps her up gently; and takes the hat from her. “One should not take things that don’t belong to them young princess.” he scolded. Sophie looked at him perplexed. “But I’m the Princess. Everything belongs to me.” 

Reaver chuckled; placing his hat firmly on his head and turned to the king. “Good day your majesty.” As he walked toward Devon; who was still rather engrossed in his new lady friend; Sophie pulled out her small toy gun and fired it. The cork hit him squarely in the back of the head; a deadly shot had the gun been real. “Sophie!” The king yelled. Everyone knew Reaver’s temper and the king didn’t really want to fight him. Reaver turned to face the princess; smiling.

He strode over and knelt before the small girl. Her icy blue eyes filled with defiance. He placed his hat upon her head; still smiling and tapped it twice as he stood. “Keep it.” The king looked at Reaver questioningly. Reaver was not known for even small gestures of generosity. Reaver simply smiled at his king. “She reminds me of someone I knew a long time ago. Again I bid you good day your majesty.” He leaves the castle, Devon close behind. “I think it was me.” He muses to himself before climbing into his carriage behind Devon.


	3. Lessons

5 Years Later

 

“One must not sleep the day away young princess.” Sophie shifted under her covers; trying desperately to shield her eyes from the sun as Jasper opened the plush velvet drapes. “You must get out of bed princess.” She sat up; looking drowsily at the old butler. “Must I? Really?” “You have lessons princess. I shall go prepare your clothes for the day.” Sophie groaned as Jasper left her to herself. Why does father insist on these incessantly boring lessons anyway? What on earth did she need things like diplomacy and etiquette for? She yawned and stretched as she rose from the comfort of her bed.

Riding on the other hand wasn’t so bad; if only her instructor didn’t insist she ride side saddle. Jasper returned with what she assumed was the dress she was supposed to wear today. He placed it on her bed and left once more. She examined it. Blue always blue. Oh how I hate blue. And how am I supposed to do anything even remotely fun in this. Sophie was tall; even for her young age of ten. She could often trick people in town into thinking she was twelve. As she put on the dress she hit something with her elbow.

A disadvantage to being tall for her age; it made her rather awkward and clumsy. Looking down she saw it; her prize from five years ago had fallen from her night stand. She smiled as she picked it up; fingering the black velvet of the brim. Her father had suggested she get rid of it once; she never wore it anymore after all. But she’d adamantly refused. She’d won this hat. And every time she looked at it she thought of him. “Sophie get down here for your lessons. Now.” Her father’s voice rang through the castle halls. Sophie carefully put the hat back in its place and bounded toward her father’s voice.

The king looked at his daughter as she slide; in a rather unbecoming fashion, down the banister to greet him. “Sophie, how many times have I told you not…” he stopped mid sentence when Sophie kissed him on the cheek; smiling cheerfully. “Happy birthday Daddy.” He smiled and Sophie ran off; hopefully to her lessons. “When are you going to learn?” He turned to face his wife. “Whatever do you mean Olivia?” he said; as innocently as possible. 

“Every time you catch Sophie doing something she knows she’s not supposed to do; she give you this sweet little smile and calls you daddy. It’s just her tricking you into letting her get away with things. She been using that immeasurable charm of her’s against you since she was three.” “I know.” He sighed. She was right; she was always right. Especially about Sophie. At ten; his little girl was already as charming as anyone would expect a princess to be. After all; she did very well in her lessons. If she bothered to sit through them, that is. Sometimes he wondered if maybe Logan was the lucky one. No kingdom, no children, just peace and quiet.

“Your Majesty.” He sighed; of course. Of course Reaver was here. “I’ll go make sure Sophie actually sits through her etiquette lesson today.” Olivia said touching his arm briefly before departing. He shot her one final abandoned glance before turning to Reaver. “What is it Reaver? Nobody, including you, has scheduled an audience today.” “No your majesty I didn’t, but you see this morning while running about my daily business…I had this absolutely marvellous idea.” The king looked at Reaver; who smiled quite happily at him. 

Something seemed different about Reaver today. He seemed a little too happy; even for him. It seemed rather forced. Oh well…it couldn’t hurt to at least hear him out. And besides; if he actually liked the idea Page wasn’t here to chastise him for even considering it. “Alright, what is it?” 

Reaver smiled as he walked beside the king trying to explain the brilliance of his plan. Actually he’d be more than just a little surprised if the king agreed to this one. Even he thought it was a bad idea. Devon always came up with the worst ideas. But coming to castle and bothering the king always cheered Reaver up; something to pass the time.

The king listened politely as Reaver pitched Devon’s plan to try to tame Balverines as beasts of labour. Nodding here and there as they walked. Suddenly the king noticed Reaver had stopped walking. He turned to see Reaver looking into the dining room; stifling a laugh. “And what exactly is so amusing?” he asked; walking over to stand beside the giggling industrialist. The sound of Sophie’s flustered tutor and his wife’s amused laughter answered his question before Reaver could.

Sophie was running around the dining room; her tutor chasing her. The king sighed heavily; starting into the room. The queen shook her head at him and motioned for him to go. She had this under control. He turned; headed toward the front hall of the castle. Reaver followed close behind. “Reaver as clever as your idea is; as clever as your ideas always are…I’m afraid that I just simply can’t go along with this one. It’s just too dangerous.” Reaver nodded “Of course your majesty. Then I shall bid you good day.” Reaver bowed before leaving. What a waste. He so rarely has the opportunity to share an idea with me unopposed. The king shrugged. I suppose even Reaver can have an off day.

Sophie squealed gleefully as she ran past the guards. Today was far too nice a day to be cooped up in the stuffy old castle. She ran through the gardens toward the back gate; hoping she could slip through before anyone caught her. The gate was closed; luckily Sophie was thin enough to slip through the bars. She stuck her tongue out at the guards before running off toward Bowerstone Market.

“So what did his majesty think of my brilliant plan?” Devon asked as Reaver sat down on the barstool beside him. “He thought it was too dangerous. He was too kind. Your idea was complete idiocy.” Devon looked at Reaver; his face contorting to visage of mock hurt. “Then why’d you tell him about it.” Reaver smiled at him. “It got me away from you, now didn’t it?” Devon punched him in the arm lightly as the barkeep brought them some wine. “Well you won’t have to worry about that for long. I found something to entertain myself for awhile.” Reaver cocked an eyebrow “What’s her name?” “Like I know…or care. She’s pretty though.” Reaver rolled his eyes. But then again, maybe Devon had the right idea. It had been so long since he’d had any company in his own bed. It was at least worth some consideration.

Sophie browsed around the shops; a small amount of gold jingling in her purse. She wasn’t sure what exactly to get her father for his birthday. She looked at little trinkets here and there; before finally deciding on a box of chocolates. After all daddy did like his sweets. I guess I should go back now; there really isn’t anything left to do here. As she starts toward the castle she sees a little kitten. She crouches down; trying to coax it toward her. She inches closer and the kitten runs off. The chase continues on like this for nearly an hour before Sophie finally catches the kitten. She scratches its ears as she stands. 

Reaver stands to leave Devon to own devices. He sees the princess through the window of the tavern. I see little Sophie escaped her lessons for the day. Good; such mundane tasks would likely drive all fire out of the princess. And what a shame that would be. She stands there for a moment before hurriedly running off. He follows. What could possibly catch her interest in this weary town?

Sophie runs as quickly as her small feet can carry her; not noticing the tall figure close behind. A little girl was crying on the stoop of one of the markets many shops. A group of three hooligan boys running off toward Old Town; laughing. She puts the kitten down; it purrs weaving between her legs. “What’s wrong?” The little girl looks up at her; eyes wide. “Y…your highness!” she sniffles. “Were those boys being mean to you?” Sophie asks; glaring back in the direction that they had run off. “Th…they stole my n…necklace.” Sophie looked at the girl; swiftly removing her own necklace. “Here have mine.” The little girl looks shocked. “I can’t take that…you’re the princess.” Sophie smile s at her “Of course you can. It means we’re friends. Please don’t cry. Okay.” The girl takes the necklace; smiling at Sophie. “I’m Claire.”

“Hi, I’m Sophie. Wanna come back to the castle with me and play?” “Sure.” Sophie picks up the kitten; she and Claire head off toward the castle. Reaver smiles; turning in the opposite direction and walking into the gift shop.

Later that night

Sophie placed the kitten on her bed before changing into her night clothes. She pets the kitten before climbing under her covers. “Goodnight Sebastian.” As she turns to blow out the lantern beside her bed she notices something on her pillow. A locket. Oh how pretty. She turns the silver locket over in her hand; examining it appreciatively. A delicate scent tickles her senses. I wonder what that smell is; as she opens it she finds a small pressed flower. “I wonder what flower that is?” she asks herself; closing the locket once more. Turning it over she finds an inscription. Living life is the best lesson learned. Well Done. 

She smiles at the small trinket before blowing at the light and drifting off to sleep.


	4. Debutante

Logan stared out the carriage window at the landscape of Albion. It had been eighteen years since Roren took the crown from him. And five since he’d even set foot in Albion. Oh how things have changed. Bowerstone Industrial was no longer ripe with the smell of death and disease. Though poverty still ran rampant. But the king could only do so much to stop it; after all Reaver still had a great deal of control there. Even if his dealings were well hidden by shadows. Reaver, what a strange man. So confident and sure of himself. But still so sad; as though forever grieving some terrible loss. Though Logan had never known Reaver to care enough about anyone or anything to actually grieve its loss. But then again; Reaver kept his secrets well. And he knew full well that even being king would not sway him to spare you. Should you stumble upon any one of those well hidden secrets.

So much had changed; he wondered if perhaps his old friend had as well. Perhaps Reaver was no longer the man he’d known during his reign as king. He doubted it. Men like Reaver do not change easily. He wondered if he would even live to see the day when something changed Reaver. Again he doubted it. After all Reaver had forever. He did not. He sighed; in some ways, it was as if he’d never left Albion; but he knew he’d be glad to return to Aurora, to Kida. Albion was no longer his home. But still…there was Roren and his wife Olivia. And of course his niece…Sophie.

Sophie dressed herself as quickly as possible; sitting down at her vanity to comb out her long raven curls. Claire sat on her bed fiddling with the top hat Sophie kept on her nightstand. An odd possession; standing out among the other possessions that adorned the princess’s room. “Sophie.” Sophie turned to her friend. Claire’s plain figure standing out even more so then the hat she held. “Why do you keep this old thing? I’ve never seen you wear it. And frankly you would look a little silly if you did.” Sophie smiled as the image of the tall man; his sapphire eyes sparkling with amusement danced through the forefront of her mind. “It was a gift.” Claire perked up at this; she did so adore a bit of gossip. And someone other then the king or queen giving her friend a gift was intriguing. “A gift? From who?” 

“Reaver.” Sophie smiled fondly at the gift. Claire looked at the hat apprehensively, putting it back in its place. “Really.” Claire’s tone was bland and disapproving. Sophie rolled her eyes at her friend. “I was five.” She stated bluntly. Claire’s expression softened slightly. Few people thought highly of the handsome industrialist. Aside from her; her father and uncle were the only other people who considered him to be anything more then an annoyance. An annoyance that the king was fond of; so most put up with him and kept their opinions to themselves. Claire on the other hand rarely kept her opinion on anything to herself; including her opinion of him. Sophie thought of him often and took every opportunity she could manage to speak to him. He visited the castle quite often; but she had rarely gotten the chance to be alone with him. But when she did…Oh how she cherished those moments. No matter how brief they were. 

Sophie was broken out of her reverie by the sound of Jasper’s familiar voice. “The carriage has arrived princess.” Sophie jumped up forgetting her thoughts of Reaver for the moment and ran out of the room. Servants continued their chores as she ran past; now quite accustomed to their princess’s lack of regal bearing. She ran down the steps of the front hall. “Uncle Logan!” She cried excitedly as she embraced him lovingly. It had been far too long since she’d seen her beloved uncle who lived so far away. “Sophie.” He said smiling down at her. “Let me take a look at you.” She twirled happily for him. Proud to show him that she was no longer the awkward little girl she’d been at his last visit. She was now a graceful young woman. If not a little vain.

“I have missed you little one.” He said; embracing her once more. “And I brought you something.” “You did?!” Her face lit up like the heavens as her uncle handed her a book he’d acquired in Aurora. Her fingers danced over the leather binding; her eyes drinking in the worn lettering. “A book about Samarkand!” She smiled up at him. “Happy Birthday Sophie.” He took her arm in his; and they walked out toward the castle gardens. “I thought you might enjoy it. You have your grandfather’s adventurous spirit.” “Thank you. I didn’t expect your visit; so when we got your letter we were surprised to say the least.”

They sat by the fountain. “Of course I came. You turn sixteen today. I wouldn’t have missed it for all the world. You must be excited.” She smiled sadly. “Not really.” “Why ever not? Today you get an entire ball to celebrate the occasion.” “I know. To announce to the entire kingdom that I’m not a little girl anymore. But Daddy is still going to treat me like a little girl.” She sighed; frustrated.

Logan looked at his niece; she was indeed no longer a child. He would have to speak to Roren about this. Sophie needed to know that she would be allowed to grow up and live her own life. But for the time being he had to think of some way to lift her spirits. He smiled as an idea struck him. “You know Sophie.” She looked at him forlornly. “After tonight, you won’t have to sit through anymore lessons.” She smiled at this; perking up almost immediately. “And it also means that men can start courting you if they like.” This last thought struck him as rather unpleasant; he most certainly did not like the idea of Sophie having beaus. But apparently Sophie did. The smile on her lips grew mischievous and hopeful. She hugged him suddenly and ran off toward the castle. “Where’re you going?” He called after her. “I have to find something to wear.” He laughed as she disappeared within the castle.

Devon sat lazily in front of Reaver’s fireplace; listening to the gossip the servants whispered to each other whenever their master was away. What naughty servants you have Reaver. If only you could hear the things they say behind your back. Devon laughed darkly. You’d probably shoot them all dead. He stood, rifling through the many books Reaver kept in his study. Until he came upon a book that seemed out of place. It was old; as though Reaver had owned for a very long time. Devon flipped it open; curiosity getting the better of him. It was a diary; Reaver’s diary. Devon read it with interest; perhaps looking for some deeper understanding of his friend. Most of the entries bring a smile to his face. The writings of the man he met over fifty years ago. A man who still had the vigour of youth. When he reaches the final entry his laughter fades. He is no longer amused by what he finds; a rare scowl forms across his face as he reads.

He throws the diary to the ground unable to read further. Now he understood. When he had made his own deal with the Shadow Court; he had lost nothing. But Reaver…he had lost everything. He jerked at the sound of his friend’s voice. “Reading someone else’s diary Devon…how rude.” His tone was a dangerous one; and Devon knew it. He had crossed a line; and whether or not he would survive it he didn’t know. Reaver smiled at him. A smile that frightened Devon more so than any threat or violent gesture. But then suddenly that same smile grew sad and Reaver sighed. He picked up the diary and placed it back on the shelf. “It’s alright Devon. You are not the first to chance upon this journal; and you likely won’t be the last.” Devon watched as his friend slumped into one of the armchairs by the fire. He watched; unsure of what he should do or say. He opened his mouth; but Reaver spoke before he could.

“I can’t even remember my name Devon. I gave myself this name so that I could forget. Forget Oakvale and Rebecca. But I can’t forget.” Devon stared; seeing Reaver vulnerable was strange. He didn’t like it; it felt wrong and intrusive. “I remember every single detail of that night as though it were happening right before my eyes as we speak. The way she looked at me; like I was some horrible monster from a nightmare. Well, perhaps she was right. Perhaps I am a monster.” How long had Reaver lived with this? Devon had only ever guessed at his friend’s true age. The thought of eternity with this kind of guilt. It made Devon want to run away and never look back. Surely he was dreaming; this wasn’t real and this wasn’t truly Reaver. Oh why won’t he just stop telling me these things? I don’t want to know them.

“I just woke up one morning and couldn’t remember my name. No matter how hard I tried. It was terrible, I suppose that was the day I truly became Reaver. The day I knew I would never be anyone else.” Reaver sighed once more. He had only ever shared these truths with one other. Sparrow. Sparrow; who had smiled at him gently and told him it was alright. Who had told him he wasn’t a monster. Such kind lies. But Devon was not Sparrow; Devon would hate him. Devon who had been alone all his life; who had never had a home. He would hate him. He waited and tensed. Waiting for the harsh words he knew were coming.

But they never came. Instead…laughter. Devon was laughing at him. But the laughter wasn’t cruel; on the contrary it was kind. Warm. Comforting. Soon he found himself laughing as well. Servants occasionally looking in on their master. It was an unfamiliar laugh full and hearty. And they both laughed; no words need pass between the two. A secret understanding had formed in that moment. The laughter stopped when one of the maids knocked on the door lightly. “Yes Belinda what is it?” Reaver asked as Devon desperately tried to contain what was left of his laughter. “The tailor is waiting in the hall for you Master Reaver.” Reaver smiled at her kindly before motioning for her to go. 

Devon looked at him incredulously “Really Reaver? Do you really need anymore clothes?” Reaver laughed as he stood “He’s not here for me old friend. He’s here for you.” “Now what do I need the tailor for?” Reaver looked Devon up and down before laughing once more. His amusement only heightened by the pout that graced Devon’s lips.

The king paced anxiously as guest began to arrive. Most of them men he noted bitterly. Sophie is only sixteen! Why can’t this damn ball wait until she’s older? We could hold it a year or two. Or thirty. But not now, she isn’t ready. I’m not ready. He sighed. Oh why couldn’t she have stayed five forever? “Nervous brother?” Roren turned; more than happy to see his brother. Logan would know exactly what to do. He’d probably suggest something to the effect of locking Sophie in a tower forever. Which at the moment sounded like a splendid idea. “She’s not ready for this Logan. She’s too young.”

Logan listened as they walked. “If you recall Roren, you were only a few years older than Sophie when you left the castle. Started a revolution, saved Albion from the darkness.” Roren eyed Logan. This was not at all what he’d wanted to hear. “That was different.” “”Not really. I certainly didn’t think you were ready.” Logan paused. “Look, it never really matters if you think she’s ready. Frankly you’ll never really know if she’s ready. But she will. This ball isn’t about helping her get ready for the world. It’s about helping you let go brother. Trust me, if you don’t she’ll just run off when she is ready.” Logan squeezed Roren shoulder reassuringly before leaving toward the grand ballroom. Roren sighed. Perhaps Logan’s right. But even so, that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

“Daddy are you alright?” he turned to Sophie; for the first time seeing what a beautiful young woman she’d become. She smiled brightly at him. “Yes of course.” He took her arm in his and escorted her to the ballroom. As they entered the musicians started playing; and the king danced the first waltz with his daughter.

“Why do I have to be here? I hate balls. They’re so pretentious.” Devon complained; fiddling with the dress attire he’d been forced to wear. Reaver chuckled at his uncomfortable friend. “Consider it retribution.” “For what?!” “For sticking your pretty little nose in places it doesn’t belong.” Reaver said simply. “Now go mingle. Perhaps associating with some members of higher society will improve your manners.” He shooed Devon away, flicking his wrist dismissively. He watched as Devon quickly found a pretty young girl with whom he could pass the time. Then he joined the festivities himself; hoping to forget the disturbing thoughts of earlier that day.

Sophie sighed; standing out on the balcony that over looked the castle gardens. This was not turning out to be quite as entertaining as she’d thought. Most of the young men were too afraid to dance with her. Either too afraid of daddy, or to afraid of Uncle Logan to even talk to her. She leaned against the banister; staring up at the stars forlornly. Suddenly her ears caught the familiar sound of clacking of a cane upon the castles marble floors. “Good evening princess.” She turned; her icy eyes meeting his sapphire ones. 

Reaver smiled at the princess. How lovely she’d become indeed. Her soft raven curls neatly pinned up into a graceful style. She blushed as he took her hand. Gently kissing her knuckles. “G…good evening Reaver.” “Why are you out here my pet? You should be inside enjoying the festivities.” Sophie mind raced, unsure of what to say. Surely he would find her complaints silly and trivial. The blush on her cheeks deepened. “I was…well. I was bored.” She replied truthfully. He looked at her inquisitively. “Bored? How ever so? Surely the young men inside must be clamouring for the attention of a beauty such as yourself.” A beauty? Had he really called her beautiful? She smiled gratefully. “None of them seem interested in dancing with me. I think they’re all too frightened.” She sighed. Ah, so that’s why she’s out here by herself. He discovered that he found these particular circumstances most favourable. She smiled at him once more; the smile touched him somehow. It was sad, and sweet. This most certainly was not the little girl who’d stolen his hat.

He bowed slightly. “Would you give me the pleasure of sharing a dance with me; fair princess?” He presumed her startled nod was meant as consent, and took her small, delicate hand in his own. He led her to the middle of the floor; where he pulled her closer to himself. Suddenly the delicate scent of lilander flowers tickles his senses as they began to dance. “What a lovely scent princess.” He smiled at her. “Thank you. It comes from a pressed flower in my locket.” She smiled; showing him the trinket proudly. “Although I don’t recognize the flower itself. Someone left in my room when I was young. It was a gift.” “A treasured possession?” he asked. He couldn’t help but wonder if that small trinket was important to her. “Oh yes.” She smiled. “I don’t treasure many belongings. Just this and one other.” “And what would that be?” She looked up at him, realizing what she’d said. She looked away blush reddening her pale cheeks once more. “A gift.” She said softly; almost inaudibly. 

Reaver smiled as the realization of what the other treasure must be hit him. Sophie’s heart beat rapidly inside her bosom as he pulled her closer; twirling about the room gracefully. The burgundy skirts of her gown swirling around her. As her gaze met his she knew. She knew that for as long as she lived her heart would forever belong to him. And that she would cherish this one perfect moment always. She grieved a little as the music stopped and he released her. She felt the absence of his presence and it saddened her. Reaver brought her hand to his lips tenderly. “Goodnight…Sophie.”

Logan watched as Reaver left disturbed by the scene he’d just witnessed. And from the incensed look gracing Page’s features he was not alone in his worries. He couldn’t understand how Roren could be so nonchalant about Sophie dancing with Reaver. When he’d been so upset before; if a young man even smiled at her. Surely none of those boys had the reputation Reaver did. Logan stood feet firmly planted in place; his face contorted in worry. This was most certainly not good. Of that he was sure.

As Sophie prepares for bed that night she glances adoringly at the old top hat. As she blows out the lamp she whispers a secret prayer that her love is returned; even if only for a moment.

Devon snores loudly in the armchair as Reaver stares out the window. He swirls the contents of his glass absently; his thought dwelling on the ball. What on earth was happening to him? Every time he closed his eyes he saw her face. Her voice soft and gentle still rang in his ears. He placed the empty glass upon the desk beside and sighed. He was unsure; but took comfort in the knowledge that the wine would do it job once more. No visions of Oakvale or Rebecca would haunt him tonight. But his sleep would not be dreamless. It would be filled with soft laughter, and the delicate scent of lilander. As a single word falls easily from his lips as he slumbers. Sophie.


	5. Reaver's Departure

The king stood in the war room, a sense of dread washing over him. The shadow of some unseen threat weighing heavily upon his shoulders. He felt the gentle pressure of his wife’s hand upon his shoulder; he reached for it. Taking comfort in the warmth of her touch. “What’s wrong my love?” He turned to her, concern filling the emerald depths of her eyes. He gently brushed an auburn strand from her face. “I’m not quite sure.” He paused, sitting haggardly. “Just a feeling really.”

She knelt before her husband, bringing his eyes to meet her’s. He was a good man, a good king. Like his father, but the weight of that crown bore heavily upon him. The proof of which shown in every grey strand and was etched in his handsome face. She said nothing, for her words rarely held the power to ease her husband’s worries. They stayed like for what seemed like a small eternity. Silent words conveying their thoughts through the secret understanding shared by all husbands and their wives. 

“Hope I’m not interrupting anything.” Both turned to the familiar face of Ben Finn. His blonde locks as unkempt as at his last visit. “No Ben, of course not.” Olivia smiled as she stood, kissing him on his stubbled cheek. She glanced back at her husband. “Worry not my love.” The door shut softly behind her as she left.

The king smiled at his old friend. “You look tired Ben.” Ben laughed, “Keeping up with Page’s endless crusade can be exhausting.” Ben often complained about Page’s seemingly endless plans to better the lives of the people of Bowerstone, but the love he held for his wife showed even through the complaints. “How is Page?” Roren asked absently. Ben strode over to the desk, leaning against it as he fiddled with some object adorning it. “Oh you know same old, same old. Waging perpetual war with Reaver Industries.” He replied rolling his eyes. “Don’t think she ever got over the whole locking you guys in a room full of murderous Balverines thing.” Roren smiled mischievously at Ben. “Well in all fairness to Reaver, we’d gone there with every intention of killing him.”

They both laughed. How simple things had been back then. Roren sighed, “How are things in Silverpines?” Ben shrugged, “To be honest I haven’t got a clue. We haven’t heard from any of the recruits we sent out there. I’m really starting to worry something might’ve happened to them.” Roren groaned rubbing his temples. “Alright Ben, I have to listen to another one of Reaver’s proposals. We’ll deal with this when I’m finished.” Ben nodded as he left. “Good luck your majesty.” The king sighed heavily as Reaver sashayed into the room, smiling wolfishly. Here we go again.

Sophie read lazily, her lithe twenty-year-old frame reclined casually on the chaise beside the library window. She gazed out at the garden lost in thought. Oh how she hated sitting in this stuffy old castle. She’d give anything to leave Bowerstone, to see all the wondrous places she’d so often read about in her books. She sighed closing her book and rising gracefully. She ran out of the room toward the gardens; so lost her thoughts that she didn’t hear the sound of approaching footsteps. She suddenly collided into someone and would’ve fallen unceremoniously to the floor if not for the strong arm that had wrapped itself around her small waist. 

She blushed as Reaver righted her. “Good morning Sophie.” He grinned devilishly; kissing her hand. “Why in such a hurry?” She smiled “I was just going to take a stroll through the gardens.” She paused momentarily, holding her book tightly to her chest. “Would you care to join me?” Reaver smiled warmly as he offered Sophie his arm. As they stepped out into the gardens, Sophie looked up at him. “So what did daddy think of your proposal?” He laughed pleasantly; twirling his cane idly as they walked. “Your father is a good king. And thusly rarely approves my proposals.” As they passed the fountain he glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye; noticing the book she clung to.

Letting go of her arm he grabbed the book from her grasp playfully. Stepping back, he pulled it out of her reach. “And what is this, my dear?” He asked smiling slyly. She glared half-heartedly at him, delicate hands resting on her hips. “Reaver.” She warned, smiling. “Don’t make me have daddy hurt you.” How she did enjoy their little games. The garden servants ignored the princess and her teasing playmate; all of them far too used to the playful pair and their games.

Reaver smiled teasingly, dangling the book tantalizingly above her. Suddenly Sophie rushed forward, pulling him close by his cravat. His eyes widened as soft ruby lips met his. He stood in shock as she pulled away; his lips burned with the memory of her brief kiss. His sapphire eyes met hers, finally seeing the truth that lay well hidden in their icy depths.

Sophie held her breath, unable to believe what she had just done. But, oh, how long she’d wanted to kiss him. She waited, watching him in his shock. An eternity passed between them before he captured her lips with his own once more. His strong lips pressed to hers in a kiss that was passionate and claiming. The sound of the book and cane falling to ground echoed through the garden as he pulled her close. Dainty fingers running through his silken black strands as they set free the blazing inferno that they’d held locked away for so long. Oblivious to the world around them. Lost in this one perfect moment.

Reaver woke, stretching lazily. He glanced out the window as he dressed for the day. What a lovely morning indeed. He strode down the steps whistling a jaunty tune. It had been nearly a month since the kiss in the garden and the weeks following had seemed like a dream. Visions of Oakvale and Rebecca rarely haunted his slumber; often replaced by Sophie’s soft laughter and indulgent smiles. Devon smiled as his friend sauntered into the dining room. “Good morning Devon. You got in rather late last night.” Reaver chimed cheerily, sitting across from him as the servants brought him his breakfast. “Well there was this girl…three girls actually.” Devon grinned mischievously. Reaver rolled his eyes, smiling at his young friend.

Devon appreciated the recent change in the household. The manor no longer seemed gloomy and foreboding. The atmosphere had become bright and jovial; and the servants no longer cringed under their master’s gaze. But the change that brought the deepest joy to his heart was in Reaver. He watched as Reaver ate, innocently chatting with one of the maids. Devon loved the bold smiles that now often graced Reaver’s lips. He’d known Reaver for most of his life, and this man he saw before him was almost a stranger.

This was a happy, content man; and he’d never known Reaver to be either. Jubilant and hedonistic…yes. But never happy. Devon found he liked this Reaver a great deal. “Are you going up to the castle again today?” “Unfortunately no…his majesty is far too busy dealing with matters in Silverpines to see me. Apparently a fair few soldiers have disappeared while out on patrol.” Reaver sighed. “But I do have to go to town, and see to things at the factories.” Devon laughed. “You work far too hard my friend.” “Ah, such is the price of success.” Reaver said, rising from his chair. He glanced back at Devon as he left. “I trust you’ll be alright on your own?” Devon nodded eyeing one of the maids hungrily. “Most definitely.”

Music filled the castle halls as Sophie’s nimble fingers danced over the piano keys. Claire watched with interest, her chocolate brown eyes closing as the delicate music swept through her. Of all the lessons Sophie had been forced to sit through in her youth Claire was most grateful for the music lessons. Sophie always played so beautifully. The tune was unfamiliar to Claire, she’d asked Sophie where she’d learned it, but a smile was the only response she ever received. No one in the castle seemed to recognize it either. It bothered her greatly; Sophie didn’t keep secrets from her. At least she didn’t used to. And the origin of the song wasn’t the only secret she was keeping either.

“Good morning.” The music stopped and they both turned to the source of the cheerful greeting. “Good morning Ethan.” Sophie smiled as she stood and hugged him tightly. Claire smiled warmly at him causing a faint blush to mix among the freckles of his tanned face. “G…good morning Claire. How are you to day?” Sophie chuckled lightly to herself. How adorable. I wonder if they’ll ever figure out how they feel about each other.

Ethan cleared his throat. “I have a letter for you Sophie.” Sophie grabbed the letter excitedly and ran off to her bedroom to read it privately. Claire glared at Ethan. “Who keeps sending you here?” “I’m not sure I understand your meaning.” Ethan said nervously. “Oh yes you do.” Claire said standing to her full height, glaring up at him. “You come here almost everyday with letters or gifts for Sophie and I want to know who they’re from!” “I can’t tell you. I promised Sophie I wouldn’t tell anybody. Not even you.” He pleaded. “I’m sorry Claire but I can’t stay, I have some errands to run for Master Reaver.” Claire watched angrily as Ethan hurried off to his errands. She walked up to Sophie’s room. Hoping see could get Sophie to tell her who had sent the letter. “Is something wrong?” 

Claire turned to Ben. As he smiled at her an idea struck her. Sophie would never tell her who kept sending those letters. If she were going to, she’d have done so already. She’d have to find out for herself, and Ben was going to help her. Claire grabbed Ben by the arm and dragged him into a nearby room. “Whoa, what’s going on?” He asked startled. “I need your help.” Claire looked him in the eye, imploring him to understand. “Someone keeps sending Sophie letters and gifts. I need to find out who it is.” “How am I supposed to help with that?” he asked raising an eyebrow. “Every time she gets one of those letters she goes out into town. Today I’m going to follow her and find out who this mystery beau is. And you’re coming with me.”

Sophie smiled happily, as she strolled through Bowerstone Market; unaware that Ben and Claire followed close behind. Ben hated following the princess, but Claire had seemed so sincere in her worries. He just couldn’t refuse, and so here, he was spying on Sophie. The sun was just beginning to set as they watched Sophie walk out to the center of Bowerstone Bridge. He sighed heavily and watched as she looked around as though waiting for something.

“Good evening Ma Cherie.” Sophie turned to face Reaver, embracing him tightly. “I brought you a gift.” He grinned pulling out from behind his back the most beautiful rose she’d ever seen. She gently touched the delicate burgundy petals. “Reaver, it’s beautiful. Thank you.” He smiled adoringly at her as she admired the flower. “It’s called an Everbloom Rose. They only grow on the shores of Samarkand. They’re one of my favourite flowers in the world, actually.” “Why?” she asked looking out at the water. “Because they never die.” He whispered wrapping his arms around her shoulders, enjoying the rare moment alone. Far too often, they were in the castle and had to refrain from such intimate gestures of affection. He nuzzled her neck affectionately, appreciating the closeness. 

“What’s wrong Sophie? You seem melancholy.” He murmured against the shell of her ear. “What’s it like in Samarkand?” He raised an elegant brow in interest as she turned in his arms. He held her close, brushing a loose curl from her delicate face. “Well pet it’s very beautiful and the people are kind and courteous. Overall, it’s rather dull. You’re not really missing anything of interest I assure you.” She cocked her head to the side, unconvinced. “Trust me love, you’ll see.”

He knew he’d said the wrong thing as she turned her head away from him. “No I won’t.” “Sophie?” Concern filled his voice as he whispered her name. “I’m never going to get past the gates of this dreary old town; let alone see Samarkand.” Tears welled up in her icy eyes. “I’m just going to sit in that old castle until daddy marries me off to some young aristocrat. A nice young suitor that he approves of and that I don’t love.” She held her face in her hands as he pulled her close. Hugging her tightly as she cried. He lifted her chin; bringing her eyes to meet his, brushing the tears from her pale rose cheeks. “Don’t cry pet. Please don’t cry. Your father values love greatly. He’ll let you marry whoever you see fit. Please don’t cry.” He whispered gently, kissing her forehead. “No he won’t.” she whispered, “Because I love you.” He looked down at her shock reflected in his eyes. It had been so long since someone had told him they loved him. Not since Rebecca. “I love you.” She whispered once more as he held her tightly; and he captured her lips with his own. Kissing her softly, tenderly.

Ben stood in the castle hall, still reeling from what he’d witnessed. What was he going to do? It had already taken everything he had to keep Claire from running straight back here and telling his majesty. Maybe Claire was right, maybe that was the best thing to do. No…he couldn’t tell the king. He just couldn’t. He was torn from his worries by the sound of footsteps. “Ben, I would’ve thought you’ve returned home by now.” He smiled weakly at the queen. “Is something the matter?” “No, of course not your majesty. I was just headed home now.” She placed her hand upon his arm gently as tried to pass.

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly he found himself wondering if perhaps the queen would know what to do. Surely, she would understand. “Your majesty…I…uh…saw something I wish I hadn’t.” They stepped into the study and sat down. “What did you see, that could possibly trouble you so?” He sighed heavily, suddenly unsure of his decision to tell her. “Claire came to me today; she was very upset. It seems that over the past month someone has been sending Sophie letters and gifts.”

Olivia nodded. “Yes, young Ethan comes by quite often. Aren’t the gifts from him?” “No your majesty. Apparently he’s just the messenger.” “Then who sent them?” Olivia asked concernedly. Ben wrung his hands nervously as he continued. “Claire wanted to know the same thing. So she asked me to come with her and follow Sophie. So we did, we followed her to Bowerstone Market and…your majesty, it was Reaver. He’s the one who’s been sending Sophie the gifts and letters.” Olivia laughed, unable to stop herself from doing so. “Oh Ben, don’t be silly.” She rose gracefully from her seat.

“Reaver is older than my father. What possible interest could he have in my twenty-year-old daughter? She’s nothing but a child to him.” She looked back at him as she left. “Go home to your wife Ben. You obviously need rest.” Ben sat in shock as the door shut softly behind her. She didn’t believe him. He’d told her everything and she’d laughed. As though he were telling a rather clever joke. He paced about the room frantically. What was he supposed to do now? He couldn’t tell the king, and he sure as hell couldn’t go home and tell Page. He groaned aloud, trying to think of some solution. What would Walter have done?

Gutted the bloody bastard, that’s what he’d have done. Major Swift, what would Major Swift have done? Then suddenly it hit him. Major Swift would’ve gone to Reaver. Try to reason with him. It wasn’t the best idea in the world given Reaver’s temper. Nevertheless, it was the only one he had. “In the morning, I’ll go and talk to Reaver.” He stated determinedly.

Olivia sat beside her husband in the throne room as people arrived. She hated these early morning audiences. She looked over at her daughter and smiled. Poor Sophie, she hates these things even more than I do. Suddenly Sophie seemed to perk up, Olivia turned away from her daughter to see Page and Reaver stepping up to the throne. She watched carefully as they both stated their cases. Noticing as every now and then Reaver’s eyes would leave the attentive gaze of her husband and drift. Drift subtly to meet Sophie’s gaze. She sighed heavily as the audience ended and she watched Sophie leave the room. She glanced at her husband; now deeply engrossed in conversation. Ben was right. She’d seen it in every subtle glance. How was she supposed to tell Roren? I can’t tell him, not yet. I have to talk to Sophie first. 

Ben knocked nervously on the door to Reaver’s office. He’d figured coming to the factory to see him was a lot safer than going to his home in Millsfield. “Come in.” Reaver’s strong voice beckoned him inside. He sighed as the door shut quietly behind him. “Ben, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Reaver smirked, gesturing for Ben to sit. “This isn’t a social call Reaver.” Ben said, his tone more aggressive than he’d intended. “Of course not. I’m sure Page would never approve of you paying me a visit of a social nature. So please do tell me what this is about. I am a rather busy man after all and do not have all day.” He stated irately as he stood, pouring himself a glass of wine. 

“It’s about Sophie.” Reaver turned to Ben, raising an elegant brow. “What about Sophie?” His tone was cold, warning. It sent an eerie shiver down Ben’s spine. Perhaps this hadn’t been the best idea after all. Perhaps it would’ve been better to just tell his majesty and let him deal with Reaver. Ben voice shook slightly as he spoke. “I saw you with her yesterday. On Bowerstone Bridge. And Claire says Ethan has been bringing letters and gifts to Sophie for the past month.” Reaver sat down lazily, propping his feet up on his desk. “And your point being?” he asked sipping his wine.

“Reaver she isn’t one of your little harlots from Industrial! You can’t play games with her till you get what you want!” Ben growled angrily. Ben shuddered inwardly at glare Reaver directed at him. He’d never seen the elegant industrialist angry before. And he was fairly certain he didn’t want to now. “And what do you think I want from the fair princess, Ben?” Reaver’s voice was low and guttural. “The same thing you want from any woman you set your fiendish sights on.” The smile faded from Reaver’s lips.

“You really shouldn’t speak of things you know nothing about…child.” Ben glowered at the man before him. As they stared each other down, he noticed something. Just a glimmer of emotion that flickered across Reaver’s face, so quickly that it might never have been there at all. Then it occurred to him. Reaver didn’t think of Sophie as just another conquest. He cared about her. Ben realized that maybe a different approach would be more effective.

“Reaver…for whatever reason you don’t age. Eventually she’s going to notice.” Reaver’s scowl deepened. He didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. He poured himself another glass of wine as Ben continued. “You don’t age…and she will. Someday she’s going to get old and her whole life will have passed her by. And when that happens she’s going to wake up and hate you for it.” His fingers twitched over the gun holstered to his thigh. “She’ll hate because when she’s old and gray you’ll leave. She’ll be alone. And someday she’s going to want children. Can you give her that? Can you even have children?” Reaver chest tightened painfully as he glared at Ben. There was truth to his words and Reaver knew it. It disturbed him, this unpleasant truth. And he found himself hating Ben for it. Suddenly he drew his pistol and fired.

Ben flinched at the gunshot, closing his eyes. Slowly he opened them once more. Reaver was standing behind his desk; the chair lay on the floor behind him. He was breathing heavily, his aristocratic features flushed with anger. Then Ben realized Reaver had…missed. He turned and left the factory as quickly as possible. Not wanting to give Reaver another chance to hit his target. He sighed heavily in relief and frustration as he walked through Industrial. This had turned out to be a very bad idea. He should’ve just gone straight to his majesty. It was late; he’d go to the king tomorrow and tell him everything. He hoped Reaver would react better to the king.

Devon walked into the manor drowsily, the sound of pacing footsteps echoing from the study. It was well past midnight; he hadn’t expected anyone to still up. “Reaver?” Reaver turned to him as he entered the room. As he scanned the room, he noticed a small satchel packed with supplies. “You going somewhere?” “Devon…I need you to do me a favour.” Reaver voice was strained and harsh. “Anything.” Devon smiled lounging in an armchair in front of the fireplace. “I need you to look after Sophie for me.” Devon’s face contorted in confusion. “Reaver, I think” “Just promise me you will! Promise me Devon.” Reaver yelled desperately. 

“Alright. I will. I promise.” Devon said standing. “Reaver, what’s wrong. You’re acting strange. Where are you going?” Reaver looked to floor, his voice quiet. Almost inaudible. “I can’t stay here Devon. I…I just can’t. I won’t age, she will. She’ll have to watch, as she slowly grows old and die. She’ll watch as I remain forever unchanged, never aging, never dying. I can’t make her suffer through that Devon. I have to leave.” Reaver grabbed the satchel and rushed toward the door. Devon turned to him as he opened the door, fists clenched in anger.

“Coward.” Reaver stopped dead in tracks, turning to Devon. “What?” “You’re a coward!” Devon growled. “What you did…you can’t handle it! You never could! So you drown it all away, you drown it in your wine, your luxury, and wealth” You pretend you don’t, that you feel nothing! But it’s just a façade, a clever guise. You feel something for Sophie, something real! And it scares you to death! You’re afraid! Afraid she’ll find out the truth and when she does…when she does.” Devon paused breathing heavily, his face red with anger. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving to save her suffering because it’s a lie. You want to save yourself the suffering of watching her get old and die! Save yourself from the day, she finds out what you did! You’re running! So she’ll never look at you like you’re monster! So she’ll never look at you the way Rebecca did!”

Reaver stepped forward and swung, lashing out in anger. His right fist connecting with Devon’s jaw, knocking him to the ground. Then breathing heavily he stormed out of the manor, leaving Devon sprawled out on the floor.

Reaver slipped silently into the slumbering castle. He would leave; he had to. For her. To give her the chance to be happy, the only gift he had left to give. But he couldn’t go without seeing her one last time. He slipped into the library smiling at her sleeping form. The image of her sitting alone in this room reading until she fell asleep danced through the forefront of his mind. He walked over and placed the book that lay on the floor beside her back in its proper place. He knelt beside her quietly, watching her sleep. He brushed the loose hair from her face careful not wake her. How ironic, the Pirate King who had broken the hearts of hundreds in his life. Would now so willingly break his own. This would hurt her and he knew it. But her heart would heal, and she would find love again. Find it in a good man who could love her, as she deserved to be loved. His on other hand would never heal.

Silent tears stained his cheeks as kissed her lips softly. “Please forgive me Sophie. Now and forever, I love you.”

Then as all of Bowerstone slept, he disappeared into the night. Looking back only once, the chill of the night air stinging on his tear stained cheeks. “Goodbye.”


	6. An Unwanted Suitor

Ethan sighed as he stared up at Bowerstone Castle. Today it seemed more foreboding than it ever had during Logan’s reign as king. He gripped the letter tightly, remembering the night before vividly. “Deliver this letter to his majesty first thing in the morning.” Reaver handed Ethan the letter; his voice cold and demanding. “Of course Master Reaver.” Ethan turned to leave, but stopped at the door. “And what should I say to the princess?” “Nothing.” Reaver sighed heavily. “It’s best if you say nothing to her.” “But Master Reaver…” “I’d said say nothing!” Ethan nodded and hurried out of the room, glancing back at his master as Devon stepped past him. 

He shook the memory of his master’s desperate expression from his mind, trudging up the steps to the castle. The king would think nothing of Master Reaver taking an extended holiday, but Sophie…How could he expect him to say nothing to her?” “Good morning Ethan.” Ethan smiled warmly at Jasper. “Are you here to see the princess again?” Jasper asked knowingly. He was never quite sure what the old butler thought of his frequent visits to the castle unaccompanied by his master. “Not today Jasper. Actually, I have a letter for his majesty. Master Reaver will be away for some time.” The smile faded from Jasper’s lips. “Really. I will make sure his majesty receives it.” He said curtly taking the letter from Ethan and walking away. 

Ethan turned to leave, happy to avoid the princess altogether. “Ethan!” He sighed heavily turning to Claire. “Good morning love.” She embraced him lovingly before him by the arm and dragging him toward the kitchens. “So…is HE here too?” she asked looking around for any signs of his master. He smiled weakly at her disdain for Reaver. “No…I’m afraid Master Reaver won’t be coming around the castle for awhile. He was called away on an urgent matter.” He lied. “Good! It means that cad will stay away from Sophie for awhile. Maybe enough time to come to her senses.” She snorted disapprovingly. Ethan sighed heavily, the sound of Sophie’s bright laughter drifting from the kitchen as they entered. She smiled at him expectantly. “Hello Ethan.” She rose gracefully embracing him warmly. “Where’d he go anyway?” Claire asked grabbing a hot bun. “I’m not sure…he didn’t say.” Ethan coughed nervously. Sophie glanced back at Claire curiously “Where’d who go?” “Reaver.” Claire flicked her flippantly, ignoring Sophie. “Well, when is he supposed to be back?” Ethan looked to the floor unable to meet Sophie’s gaze. “He didn’t say.” “Claire would you mind going into town and picking up a few things?” called a stout woman from the other room. “Sure.” Claire waved as she left leaving Sophie and Ethan alone. “He didn’t say when he’d be coming home?” Ethan felt Sophie’s gentle hand grasp his own. As he looked up at her, she knew. Reaver wasn’t coming back, ever. Her grip on his hand tightened slightly, as stared into his honey coloured eyes. “Why did he leave?” The sadness in her eyes broke his heart as he stammered unable to answer her. For years, he’d listened as people accused Reaver of being a ruthless monster. Defended him to the other servants. He wasn’t a monster; he was just lonely and misunderstood. Now for the first time he agreed with them. Reaver was a monster, of that he was sure. He found himself hating his master. He watched as her icy eyes darkened with unshed tears. He fought back his own empathetic tears as she released his hand.

“Sophie I…” She turned away from him and his pity unable to hold back the tears that threatened to burst forth any longer. She ran through the castle halls as quickly as her small feet would carry her. Running from Ethan and the pain that now gripped her heart. She burst through her bedroom door and collapsed onto her bed, crying uncontrollably. She didn’t understand. Why did he leave? Was it something she had done? Why hadn’t he even said goodbye? She cried out her chest tightening painfully as though being crush by a great weight. She wept until she drifted off into a restless slumber. A slumber haunted by monstrous visions. Visions of hooded shadows and howling cries of pain. 

Over the following days, Sophie walked about the castle listlessly, taking little interest in any of the things that had once brought her so much pleasure. The world no longer held any joy for her. Everything reminded her of him, his teasing laughter, his soft voice, and his smile. She sat alone in the library staring out at the gardens. Rain poured down the windowpanes reflecting her mood. “Your highness.” She turned suddenly to Jasper. “Oh…good morning Jasper.” She said smiling weakly. “Your father wishes to see you.” She nodded rising lethargically. Jasper gently grasped her small wrist as walked past. “Are you alright Sophie?” He asked already knowing the answer. The use of her name startled her. Jasper had never once in her entire life referred to her so informally. Only deep concern would cause him to do so now. “Of course Jasper, why shouldn’t I be?” She smiled reassuringly at the old butler. He watched unconvinced as she left, anger burning deep inside his chest. Damn that bastard of a man! He sincerely hoped that wherever Reaver had gone he stayed there. Rotting away in a ditch somewhere if there was any justice in the world. How dare he hurt her? Guilt tugged at his sub-conscious, he should have said something to his majesty immediately after witnessing the two of them in the gardens. Why hadn’t he done something to prevent this? He knew this would happen, the kind of man Reaver was. He snorted frustratedly, setting off to see to his duties.

Sophie stepped quietly into the war room glancing around curiously. Her father rarely allowed her in this room. It was no place for a princess he would often say. She ran her delicate fingers over the map table wondering where Reaver could’ve gone. Perhaps to Aurora, he and Uncle Logan had always been…friendly. Maybe he’d gone there, if not Uncle Logan would surely have some clue as where he’d gone. Perhaps I might convince daddy to allow to visit Aurora, to see Uncle Logan of course. 

“Examining the world Sophie?” She turned torn from her musings by her father’s amused laughter. “I just miss uncle is all. It’s been so long since I last saw him; perhaps I could pay him a visit?” She asked hopefully, but her hopes were dashed when he gave her the same humouring smile he’d given her when she was small. “There’s no need for that Sophie. He’ll happily pay us a visit soon enough.” She sighed heavily; she’d have to find some other way to get to Aurora. Maybe should could convince her mother to let her go. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” She looked up at the young man that entered. “Hello princess.” He smiled, kissing her hand gently. “This is David.” Her father said smiling brightly. “His father is an aristocrat from Brightwell. This is his first visit to Bowerstone, perhaps you might like to show him around?” he hinted. “O…of course.” David offered his arm to Sophie, flashing her a charming grin. She glanced back at her father desperately before taking David’s arm and leaving. The king smiled contentedly as they left.

Sophie glanced at David as they strolled through Bowerstone. He really was quite handsome. The way the sun reflected off his long golden locks and his eyes danced with vibrancy as he talked. He smiled at her sweetly. “You’re city is very fair princess. But not nearly as fair as you.” She blushed deeply smiling blandly “Thank you.” In the days that followed, David’s arrival Sophie’s mood did not brighten. David was now a constant presence at the castle, spending his time attempting to woo the melancholy princess. “Good morning princess.” He smiled brightly holding out a lovely bouquet of flowers for her. “Thank you David. They’re beautiful.” She said half heartedly taking the flower from as he kissed her hand sweetly.

Claire giggled behind her as she took the arm he offered. He led her through the gardens. Gardens that no longer held any beauty for her, only bittersweet memories of time spent here with Reaver. “You’re friend Claire says you spend a great deal of time in the library. You like to read?” He asked attempting to make small talk. He sighed heavily when she only nodded. She was always so distant, her thoughts seeming to be somewhere else. He stopped suddenly. “Is something wrong princess?” She smiled at him sadly. “Of course not David. Why should there be anything wrong?” He leaned forward slightly gazing into the icy eyes he’d come to adore since he’d first seen them in the war room. She gasped softly when his hand touched her cheek. “You are truly the loveliest sight in all of Albion…Sophie.” He whispered placing a gentle kiss on her rose coloured lips.

Her thoughts raced as he pulled her close. He was sweet and gentle. But this wasn’t right. Everything about the kiss felt wrong, it was tentative, timid. Tears fell from her eyes she pushed him away. He stared at her, confusion contorting his gentle features. “Sophie…” She ran from him when he reached out to touch her. She ran into the library slamming the doors shut behind her and collapsing to the floor in tears. Why couldn’t she forget him? He left, he didn’t want her. So why did it hurt so much? Why couldn’t she just move on with her life? Why did she love him so much?

Devon watched in the shadows of the library unnoticed by the princess. Anger and pity welled up deep inside his chest, tightening it. Pity for the young girl weeping in front of him and anger for Reaver, for the turmoil he’d caused. He slipped out of the room quietly, unable to watch her pain. The sound of voices drew his attention away from the room he’d just left. Peering around the corner, he saw the king speaking with David. He listened intently as the conversation turned to the princess. “Your majesty there is something I wanted to ask you, concerning Sophie.” “Of course David, what is it?” the king asked as they walked through the halls. “Sophie is a fine woman. She has stolen my heart away and I would like to ask for her hand in marriage.” Devon watched in horror as the king gripped David’s shoulders happily. “Nothing would bring me greater joy. I will tell Sophie this evening.” Devon turned away from the conversation slipping out into the kitchens. This would not end well, of that he was sure.

Sophie sat at the piano, fingering the keys softly. She closed her eyes as she played, remembered the way Reaver’s long fingers danced over the keys almost sadly as he taught her the old lullaby. His voice soft and clear as he sang. She sang quietly recalling every word “Down by the reeds, down by the reeds swim the sirens of Oakvale, out to the sea.” The memory of him seemed almost corporeal as she played. She could see him in her mind’s eye smiling at her as he played, the smell of wine, of cigars and his cologne wafting through the air as though he were sitting beside her once more. The saddest smile graced her lips as she swayed to the music, singing softly.

David watched silently as she played not wanting to disturb her. Surely, she was at her loveliest at this moment. An angel sent to Albion brightening the world with her light. It was unjust that such an angel should always seem so melancholy, her smiles so sad, a tear forever threatening to fall. If only he could take her grief away, fight off whatever monster that had brought a tear to her eye. If only she would let him, he would spend eternity trying to ease her pain. He closed his eyes letting the sweetness of her voice wash over him as she sang. It did not matter that the song was unfamiliar to him. For the beauty of the music touched his heart. There was joy reflected in her voice, a happiness he’d never heard from her. Love…it was the voice of love.

He was torn from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps behind him. He turned to face the familiar redhead that often roamed the halls of the castle. “Hello Devon.” Devon merely grunted quietly in response, leaning casually against the doorpost. David eyed him suspiciously, as he watched Sophie play. Why is always lurking about, watching Sophie? Perhaps he’s another suitor hoping to win Sophie’s affections. He huffed irritatedly, bothered by the other man’s presence. “She plays beautifully.” David stared in shock at Devon. The man had never spared a single word on him before now. “Yes, yes she does.” He said curtly. “Her father seems rather fond of you.” Devon stated turning to face him. “Which I suppose works toward your best interests. The princess is quite beautiful after all.” He continued not waiting for a reply. “You do seem rather taken by her.”

David glared at Devon. “Her father has agreed to give me her hand in marriage.” He said confidently. Devon chuckled softly recognizing the possessive tone. “Don’t worry boy.” A muscle in David’s jaw twitched as Devon emphasised the word boy. “I am already aware of your intentions and I myself have no romantic interest in the princess.” David huffed, unbelieving as Devon leaned forward whispering so only he could hear. “I would abandon your quest for Sophie’s heart if I were you.” “Why?” he asked suspiciously. Devon laughed as he walked away waving his arm flippantly. “Because you can’t win a prize that’s already been awarded to someone else.” David stood glaring at Devon back as he left.

Devon walked hurriedly through Bowerstone Industrial toward the docks. “Captain!” A tall woman called down to him from the crow’s nest of a large ship, The Siren Star. He watched as swung down to greet him her lean form landing gracefully on the dock in front of him. “We finally headed back out to sea?” she groaned irritably. He laughed as she glared at him. “We leave tonight Kaylee. Make sure the ship is prepared for our departure.” “Aye Aye captain.” He watched as she barked orders at crew glad to be leaving Albion far behind him. After all why should he stay? It’s not his job to clean up Reaver’s mess. Paying Reaver a visit had turned out to be far much more trouble than it was worth. He huffed unpleasantly crossing his arms over his chest. The old man should have just bedded the damn princess and gotten her out of his system. What about her had gotten him so worked up in the first place? Surely, there were hundreds of others like her in the world. Reaver couldn’t honestly expect him spend the next sixty years in this dreary place waiting for the princess to die of old age?! He stormed off toward the tavern as the sky reddened with the setting sun. Kaylee would have the ship ready by the time he returned and perhaps a few pints would improve his mood.

Sophie stepped into the war room, the shutting softly behind her. “You wanted to see me daddy?” “Yes, I have wonderful news.” He declared jubilantly, embracing her. “David has asked for your hand in marriage. I will announce your engagement tomorrow!” She backed away from him, horror etched on her face. “But daddy…” “I know it’s sudden but I won’t live forever Sophie. I need to know that you and Albion will be in good hands when I’m gone. He’s a good man. He’ll make a fine husband and a just king. And he loves you so.” He said smiling reassuringly. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Her breathing became shallow as her chest tightened painfully. She didn’t want David; she didn’t love him. “Sophie…” He grasped her small hands in his own. “Sophie try to understand, it really is for the best.” She pulled away shaking her head violently. “NO!” Why couldn’t he understand, understand that marrying David would break her heart. She ran from the room drowning out her father’s voice that called her name pushing past her mother.

Sophie stood out on her bedroom balcony staring up at the stars. Oh Reaver wherever you are come home. Come and whisk me away, far away from Albion, and this castle. She closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around herself. The night air whistled as she recalled happier days that now seemed so far away. Days when he held her close, whispering of the adventures they would share the things he’d show her. She cried desperately into her hands. What was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t marry David; it would rip her heart out and kill her soul. “Sophie.” She turned to her mother, who smiled gently at her. “Oh Sophie.” Olivia whispered pulling her daughter close. “My sweet angel, everything will be alright. “Mama how could he?” She cried as her mother stroked her hair softly. “I don’t love him. I love Rea…” Her shot up to meet her mother’s emerald gaze. “I know sweetie, I know. She brushed the tears from Sophie’s cheeks. “Why did he leave mama?” Sophie pleaded imploring her mother to the answers she so desperately needed. “I wish I knew. He loved you that much I do know.” Sophie pulled away from her mother, suddenly angry. “Then why leave? Why not say goodbye? He left me here all alone. And now I’m engaged to David. I can’t marry him, I can’t, I won’t!” She fell to her knees fresh tears staining her cheeks. “What do I do now?” Olivia kissed her head gently. “I can’t tell you that, but what I can say is your heart will never lead you astray Sophie. You have to follow no matter where leads you. All I have ever wanted for you is for you to be happy.” Sophie watched as her mother left. She was right. Her heart belonged to Reaver, it always has. She couldn’t stay here. She had to find him. She’d go to Aurora, Uncle Logan would help her, he had to.

She slipped into the war room as the castle slept, searching frantically. She sighed heavily tapping her fingers on her father’s desk in frustration. Her face contorted in confusion as she tapped on the desk, a hollow sound echoing through the empty room. Her slender fingers felt along the edge of the desk finding a small lever. Upon pulling it, a secret compartment opened revealing a beautiful gold and sapphire seal. She ran her fingers over the engravings admiring the seal. Her father’s most prized possession, the legacy of her grandfather Sparrow, the Guild Seal. She closed her tight against the sudden bright swirling light that emanated from the seal. Her knees buckled, a wave off nausea overtaking her as she fell to the cold stone floor of her father’s sanctuary. She stood shakily attempting to regain her bearings. She walked through the main room, her fingers brushing over the map table as she did so. Pushing open the door the armory, she gasped in awe at the array of weapons before her. Gauntlets, swords, and firearms displayed proudly throughout the room. The sound of her boot heels against the cold stone echoed as she walked, examining the weapons curiously. Everything she needed was right here, but where to start. The gauntlets! She picked up the inferno gauntlet tentatively. Her father was a great Hero but she might not even be able to use them. Slipping it over her gloved hand she felt a strange warmth wash over her. A small flame appeared in the palm of her hand as she flexed her delicate fingers. She grabbed the vortex gauntlet smiling triumphantly, a small tornado forming in her hand. She finished arming herself with a pistol and cutlass before stepping into the main room, gripping the guild seal tightly.

Devon staggered slightly as he left the tavern intent on returning to his ship and getting as far away from Albion as humanly possible. He squinted shielding his eyes from a sudden blinding light. Watching as Sophie materialized before him. He took note of her strange attire and the fact she was fully armed as she pulled her cloak around herself tightly against the chill of the night air. It was when she hurried off in the direction of Industrial that he spoke. “Going somewhere princess?” She jumped turning to face him. “Devon?” He smiled wolfishly as he approached her. “What are you doing here?” she whispered. “You’re going after him aren’t you?” He leaned in close ignoring her inquiry a cheshire grin spreading across his face as she nodded. Over the centuries, Reaver had left many women but this was the first one he’d ever met who’d decided to chase after him. She certainly had spunk this princess. “No why would you want to go and do a thing like that for? Why not stay here in Bowerstone where it’s safe and marry sweet David.” She pushed him away angrily with surprising strength. “I’m going after to him and no one can stop me. If you try to stop me I will hurt you Devon.” She threatened storming off.

Devon ran forward falling in step with Sophie laughing. “Well if you insist on hunting him down then I’m just going to have to come with you.” “What? Why?” “Well someone has to look after you and I would just never forgive myself if any harm were to befall you.” He chimed placing a hand over his chest in mock concern. “So where are we headed?” “I am going to Aurora. And I am perfectly capable taking care of myself thank you very much.” He laughed heartily. “And how exactly were you planning on getting to Aurora hmm? Surely your father will notice if one of his ships are missing, or were you planning to swim to Aurora.” She blushed deeply as he grinned at her his brow quirked in amusement. She glared defiantly into his stormy eyes. “If I must.” He laughed once more taking her hand and pulling her toward a large sewage grate. “There’s no need for that princess. I have a ship. Although might I suggest we take the scenic route.” “Through the sewers?” she scoffed incredulously. “Of course. You wouldn’t the lovely Page or her noble husband to see you lurking about Industrial now would you? It’d be a rather swift end to your quest now wouldn’t it?” Oh what she’d give to slap that smug self-satisfied smirk off his handsome face. “Ladies first.” He grinned pulling the grate aside. She glanced back at the castle, her courage faltering. If she left she might never see her home or family again. “You can always turn back princess.” Devon whispered. No, she couldn’t. If she stayed, she’d never see Reaver again. She had to find him, even if that meant leaving her family behind. Forever. 

As she turned to jump into the sewers, Devon grasped her wrist gently. “Reaver has many secrets Sophie. All the humour was gone from his voice as he spoke. “You may not like what you find.” She nodded curtly and he watched sighing heavily as she leapt into the dank depths of the sewers. “Reaver, what have you done?” he whispered following the headstrong princess.


	7. Road to Aurora

The king strode proudly through the castle halls overseeing preparations for this evening’s ball. Tonight all of Albion would celebrate Sophie’s engagement to David. Roren let out a sigh of relief. Finally, he could rest assured that when he was gone the kingdom would be in good hands, and in time, Sophie would grow at least …fond of her husband. He would’ve preferred she love the man she was to marry, but she had shown no interest in any of the other suitors. As much as he wanted Sophie to be happy, Albion came first. She’d understand someday…he hoped. He nodded to Page as he passed, a low mumble her only reply. She hated all the pomp and circumstance of royal life, and had complained loudly when he’d asked her to help with the preparations. He laughed at the memory, for as long as she lived the woman would always be a rebel at heart.

Nevertheless, the ball was necessary if for no other reason than lifting Sophie’s spirits. “Your Majesty!” He was torn from his thoughts as he turned to Jasper. “Calm down old friend. What is it?” he laughed as Jasper panted, all his usual refined composure gone from him. Panic and guilt contorted his aged features. “It’s Sophie your majesty! She’s gone!” “What do you mean she’s gone Jasper?! Where is my daughter?!” His voice echoed through the halls like a gunshot drawing the attention of everyone within earshot.  
“I don’t know your majesty.” The king turned from Jasper, the sound of his boots echoing through the halls as he ran. The world seemed to move in slow motion as he burst into his daughter’s room to find his wife and Ben waiting for him; their expressions grave and wary. 

“Ben organize the army, find my daughter!” Roren ordered but Ben just stood motionless glancing at his queen. “Leave us.” She ordered softly, stepping toward the vanity as he obeyed swiftly. Roren looked to his wife as the door shut quietly, watching. She removed an ornate silver box from the vanity drawers and sat down, motioning for him to do the same. He scowled, confused as she handed him the box. “Olivia we can’t waste time, we have to find Sophie!” “Open it.” She said simply. His confusion grew as he lifted the lid; removing a stack of letters. “What are these?” he scowled. Olivia sighed heavily. “Our daughter has been keeping secrets my love. You should read those.” He recognised the elegant handwriting instantly upon opening the first letter. Every loop, swirl and flourish familiar to his eyes. He’d seen them so often in letters addressed to himself. His scowl deepened as he read through them. Some elegant poetry comparing Sophie to the heavens above, or the untameable sea. Others were simple, plain, but all contained professions of adoration…of love. He looked away from the pages before him, glancing at the room around him. Suddenly noticing the unfamiliar objects adorning it. Gifts and tokens of affection that had taken the place of Sophie’s childhood treasures. A single burgundy rose stood proudly on the nightstand beside a worn top hat, the first gift Reaver had ever given Sophie and the last, or so Roren had thought.

Rage boiled in his veins, growling he threw the box across the room. He tore the letter in his hands bellowing obscenities, and stomping around the room. Olivia sat calmly watching her husband’s rampage. He turned to her suddenly when she grasped his hand. “Roren calm down.” “Calm down! Calm down! How am I supposed to calm down!! Damn it Olivia, Reaver! Reaver! He…he touched our daughter! Only god knows what he did!” “Nothing my love. Reaver did nothing…except return her affections.” She said trying to soothe her husband. The fact that Reaver hadn’t bedded their daughter brought little comfort to him. “But he’s…he’s Reaver. He’s a scoundrel and a villain.” Olivia chuckled softly. “So quick to brand him the villain for this after defending him for far less innocent crimes?” “Innocent! How can you call this innocent?” He panted heavily, his handsome features flushed with rage. The sapphire hue of his eyes darkened to black; as a realization struck him. “She went after him, didn’t she?” He growled glowering at his queen who only nodded. “I’m going after her.” His voice low and guttural as he stormed out of the room. He threw open the doors of the war room striding over to his desk. “It’s not there my love.” He looked up in surprise at Olivia, who stood in the doorway; the perfect image of grace and refinement. “She took the seal Roren.” Roren opened the secret compartment, staring unbelievingly at the empty space. He slammed his fist upon the desk growling. “This never would have happened if I had gotten rid of that impudent bastard as Page had suggested!” “Reaver is an asset to the kingdom dearest as you yourself have stated on more than one occasion.”

“He’s not that great an asset!” The king roared in frustration. How could Olivia be so calm when their only child had just decided to go traipsing off to only god knows where after the most disreputable man in Albion. He sighed heavily falling into the chair behind him; his initial anger ebbing under his wife’s unrelenting gaze. “I just don’t understand why Olivia? Why him of all people?” Olivia sat on the edge of the desk taking his hand in hers. “The heart desires what it desires. We may not understand it ourselves but Sophie has chosen Reaver, she sees something in him worthy of her love and has refused to just let him go.” Roren stood suddenly and stepped to the window, gazing out at the bustling city below. “How can I just sit here while she’s out there somewhere Olivia? The world is full of dangers she cannot possibly understand. Balverines, hollow men, Hobbes, and worst of all people. People who will hurt her, given the chance. And dammit, even if she does find him wherever he is it won’t matter. She’ll only have her heart broken, broken by that snake of a man. I’ve known Reaver most of my life Olivia. He only cares about himself, he doesn’t love her, he can’t love her. He can’t love anyone.”

“Perhaps he can’t but that is something Sophie must find out for herself. As far as the dangers of the world, I believe she will meet them well. She is so much like your father Roren. What she lacks in experience she makes up for in strength of heart. We have to trust that she will come home. That’s all we can do.” Roren continued to stare out at his kingdom, hoping his queen was right his eyes closing in silent prayer to whatever power wove the intricate tapestry that shaped their lives. Oh please may we all be wrong about Reaver just this once.

Sophie stood atop a grassy hill; screams permeated the night air as she watched the village below burning to the ground. She saw a young man running toward the burning inferno. Sophie called to him urging him to stop but her cries fell on deaf ears as the faceless young man disappeared into ensuing chaos below. She fell to her knees screaming the horror of the scene overwhelming her. Dark cruel laughter cut through the screams enveloping her senses. Tears stained her cheeks as the laughter grew louder drowning out even the sound of her own screams.

Sophie woke suddenly drenched with sweat and breathing heavily. It took her a few moments recognise her surroundings. The ship rocked gently on the calm seas as Sophie glanced around the dark space listening to the light snores of the sleeping crew. She shook of the chill that raced up her spine as she stood. The dream had been so real; she could still feel the heat of the flames on her flesh could still hear the screams in the whistling night air. She stepped quietly toward the ladder leading above deck. “Having nightmares highness?” Sophie turned quickly to the source of the harsh voice behind her. A tall harsh looking man of advanced years sat at a small table, his aged features illuminated harshly by the lantern light shining from the table. “Excuse me?” She questioned. “Ye was moaning in ye sleep.” “Oh” she whispered as she sat across from the old man. “What made ye join up with a bunch o’scurvy dogs as this lot. It’s hardly fittin a career choice for a princess.” He smiled at the clear shock on Sophie’s face. “I hope it ain’t out of misguided fancyin of the dear captain.” “No.” she answered quickly “I’m looking for someone. Devon offered to take me to Aurora since he happens to be an old friend of his.” He huffed gruffly. “Hymph. Such kindness ain’t common with the captain. But if it be an old friend of the captain’s ye be looking fer than ye can’t be looking fer anyone but Reaver.”

Sophie leaned forward excitedly “You know Reaver?!” “Of course I know Reaver. He was me captain once, Devon’s too. Ye see Devon is the pirate king but he took Reaver place ye see.” “Reaver was a pirate?” Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. “Aye he was. And a better captain no man could ask fer. It got to be too much though. Ye see Devon wasn’t meant to take the good captain’s place.” He leaned closer to Sophie the whiskey on his breath filling her senses. His excitement about telling tales to fresh ears evident in his mangled face. “The first mate is supposed to take the captain’s place and Devon wasn’t the first mate. He was just the gunner, first mate was a boy called Julian. Good lad I remember, loved the captain. Woulda done anything fer him. I’d say he was the only one of us the captain trusted.”

“So if this Julian was the first mate how did Devon become the Pirate King?” “Well that be the thing princess, nobody really knows fer sure. The lad just disappeared one day. Captain found him eventually, killed by somebody. None of us really knew by who. He made Devon first mate after that. Didn’t seem none to happy bout it though. He was captain and Pirate King within a years time seein as Reaver had retired and all. All I know is what I thinks and that be that our captain now can’t be trusted. You be careful princess.” He looked as though he was going to say something more on the matter but he suddenly froze mid-sentence. He seemed suddenly uncomfortable. “Wouldn’t be telling tall tales again would you Mr. Cash?” Devon drawled behind them.

“Of course not Captain.” Cash rose and bid Sophie good night taking his leave as quickly as his aged form would allow. Devon glared threateningly at his back as he left, then turned smiling to Sophie. “You shouldn’t worry about anything that old man tells you. His mind is addled from too many years at sea. Come up on deck princess, I need you to man the crow’s nest.” Sophie followed Devon above deck eyeing him suspiciously. In the two months, she’d spent aboard the Siren Star most of the crew had at one point or another warned her not to get too close to Devon, that he was dangerous and not to be trusted. She watched him from the crow’s nest as dawn broke over the horizon. The crew followed his orders quickly and efficiently but always seemed to be so afraid of their captain. She couldn’t imagine why anyone should be so afraid of Devon. She was torn from her reverie by the sound of thunder. “Princess!” Devon called motioning for her to come down. He couldn’t suppress the smile pulling at the corners of his lips as she swung down, her lithe form landing gracefully. She was a natural at sea, had she not been born a princess she’d have made a fine pirate.

She strode toward him confidently. “There seems to be a storm coming princess, you should get below deck. For your own safety. I would hate to have to explain to Reaver should any harm come to you.” “I think in these last two month’s I have more than proven myself a capable asset to the crew.” Sophie glowered, crossing her arms across her full chest a familiar defiant gleam in her eyes. Fire, that’s what it was. Reaver’s eyes had always held the same fire at sea. He was finally starting to understand. It was that same fire that drew Reaver to the fair princess. “Captain what are your orders?” Kaylee called down from the riggings. Before he could answer a giant wave crashed into the ship knocking Sophie off balance. Devon screamed orders to the crew as she righted herself. The sky above them had darkened almost instantly, a fierce storm appearing suddenly. Rain soaked through their clothes as she ran to help lower the mainsail. Devon glanced over at her the wind whipping his fiery hair about his face. The princess was smiling despite the chaos around her. Suddenly an eerie cry filled the air followed by a dead silence as apprehension grip the crew. “Sirens!” Cash bellowed mounds of candle wax shoved in his ears. The men aboard quickly followed his example shoving bits of wax in their own ears. Beautiful ethereal women rose from the water, singing as though to comfort the crews distress.

Devon slashed the one nearest him. It dissolved into foamy mist sending it’s kin into a vicious fury. They attacked their once beautiful forms contorting to reveal hideous monster covered in sludge and sea barnacles. Sophie drew her pistol firing with unnatural accuracy; killing as many as she could. As the sirens raged the tempest around them grew fiercer still. Lightening struck the main mast. Cash pulled Sophie out of harm’s way just as it crashed through the deck. He pulled her toward the nearest lifeboat. He set to work freeing the tiny boat from it bindings as Sophie watched horrified the crew being dragged from the doomed ship to their watery graves below. She aimed her pistol once more at the creature nearest when Devon suddenly stopped her. “It’s best not to draw attention to ourselves princess.” “But they’re your men!” “And I’d much rather live to assemble a new crew than go down trying to save this pathetic lot. Any who make it to the life boat will, the rest…well so be it.” Devon cut the ropes holding the boat and watched as the small vessel dropped to the turbulent waves below. “We have to jump highness!” Cash yelled pulling her toward the edge. Cold attacked her senses as they plummeted into the sea. Her head crashed through the surface as looked around gasping for air. Cash rowed furiously toward her as the ship sank into the sea. Devon and Kaylee pulled her into the small boat as Cash tried to distance themselves from the wreckage. Suddenly one the hellish creatures burst from the waves baring it’s grotesque pointed teeth at them. It wreak havoc on their vessel as it tried to drag them down to the depths below. Kaylee and Cash bailed water frantically as Devon wrestled with the monstrosity. Sophie gathered every once of strength within and fired a deadly ball of fire at it screaming face; sending careening into the ocean dissolving to sea foam as it hit the water. Their victory was sort lived as wave upon wave assaulted their already sinking boat, sending them crashing into the waves. She broke through the surface desperately searching for her companions. The sound of a woman’s voice whispered in ear “Death is not your destiny today young Sophie.” The soft voice the last thing she remembered before blacking out.

Warmth, she suddenly felt warm. She opened her eyes slowly the bright sun blinding her as she tried to sit up. She fell back too tired to even stay conscious much longer, she felt herself drifting back into unconsciousness when she heard voices. “Logan! We’ve found another one! A young girl!” A faint smile grace her lips as she fainted once more. Uncle Logan, she was safe. They’d made it to Aurora.


	8. Aurora

“Hello.” Sophie called out. She searched around hoping to find any sign of life in the eerie white mist. She was utterly alone, with no clue as to where she was. She had thought they’d by some miracle made it to Aurora but perhaps that had only been a dream. Her voice echoed throughout the cold misty air. “Am I dead?” The question was directed more to herself than any being that may be living in the mist; so naturally, she had not expected any reply and jumped startled when someone answered. “No you are not dead Sophie.” “Who are you?” Sophie asked stepping toward the mysterious woman in front of her. “I am Theresa of the Spire. I guided your father and grandfather in their greatest triumphs.” Sophie stared at the old blind seer, a million questions running through her mind. She finally decided to address the most pressing issue. “So…where are we?” “We are in a dream. It is the simplest way for me to communicate with Heroes. I have spoken to your father in this manner on many occasions.” 

“Great. I’m not dead…I’m hallucinating. I swallowed too much sea water and now I’m imagining talking to an old blind woman.” “You are not hallucinating Sophie. I assure you I am quite real.” “That’s not possible. If what you say is true and you really knew my grandfather during his quest to defeat Lucien that would make you older than well…older than even Jasper. And that’s not possible, you should be dead. No one is that old and still breathing.” Sophie pointed at Theresa; her eyebrow raised incredulously. “Perhaps I’m immortal.” Sophie laughed derisively, the very thought of such a thing as immortals wandering about Albion unnoticed was the most absurd notion she’d ever heard in her entire life. “Well now I know you’re lying. There are no such things as immortals except perhaps in books or the rather absurd rumours that tend to float around…” “Bowerstone Industrial.” Theresa interrupted quietly. “You’ll find that whispers of such rumours tend to follow in Reaver’s wake.” “Wait, how do you know Reaver?” Sophie was starting to wonder if perhaps this Theresa just might be telling the truth. “Reaver as the Hero of Skill was instrumental in your grandfather’s victory over Lucien.” “No that would make him over seventy years old. It doesn’t make any sense, someone would’ve noticed by now. Page would’ve noticed.” “Some people do notice. Your uncle did.” “Uncle Logan? So he does know where Reaver went.” “Perhaps and perhaps he doesn’t. But know that finding Reaver will not be a simple task. His secrets are well kept and there those who seek to stop you. They will go to any means necessary to do so, even if that requires your death.” 

Sophie eyed the old woman a strange uneasiness turning her blood cold. “Who would want me to fail to find him so desperately?” “Who indeed.” Theresa whispered knowingly her eerie gazed fixed upon Sophie. “Just who would seek to stop you is of no consequence; just know that you cannot fail. The future of Albion depends on it.” Theresa turned her back on the Sophie leaving her confused. “Wait! I don’t understand!” But it was too late; Theresa had already disappeared within the surrounding mist. She ran through the mist, searching for Theresa. She had to be here, Sophie still had so many questions. What did she mean when she said Albion depended on her finding Reaver? How could he possibly have known her grandfather? The mist around her thickened as she ran until she could barely see in front her, everything began to spin causing her to come to dead stop. The mist had turned to thick black smoke choking her. The sound of panicked screaming filled the air around her, a man cried out in grief. His voice rising above the roar of death briefly before falling silent sending icy chills down her spine. The smoke dissipated revealing the most horrible sight she’d ever laid eyes on. It was the town she had seen burning in her dream, or more accurately, what was left of it. It was now nothing more than a lifeless marsh. The tragedy and grief that had touched this place hanging in the air so densely that it seemed almost tangible. As though she could just reach out and touch it. She wandered through the remains of what she new in her heart had once been a beautiful place that had known only joy and laughter. Voices whispered around her, too many of them for her to make out what any one of them were saying. 

Sophie saw a young woman in the distance staring at her. The woman seemed faded as though looking at a very old painting where one could barely make out the colour of the paints. Sophie stepped toward her the sudden need to speak to the woman overwhelming her. “Who are you? What is this place?” The woman just continued to stare; her eyes reflected the grief that seemed to haunt this place. Theresa’s voice whispered in her ear. “This place is the proof of Reaver’s greatest sin, and the key to his salvation.” Sophie turned quickly expecting to find the old woman standing behind her but instead found only empty space. Suddenly the world around spun once more, her vision fading as voices calling to her reached her ears and she fainted. 

“Sophie… Sophie please wake up.” Her eyes fluttered open, her uncle’s prematurely lined face staring down at her his brow furrowed in worry. “Uncle Logan?” “Oh thank the gods you’re alright.” He sighed heavily in relief as she sat up slowly. “Where are the others?” “Don’t worry princess. We didn’t lose anyone important.” Devon smiled wryly. She turned to her uncle concern constricting her voice. “What about Mr. Cash and Kaylee? The rest of the crew?” “They’re both fine but unfortunately it seems no one else survived the wreck. Although I think it would’ve been better if there’d been one less survivor.” Logan shot at glare toward Devon that would’ve had most men running in the opposite direction in fear of his wrath but Devon just smiled back at him as though indulging a stubborn child. Sophie stood stretching her tired limbs her encounter with Theresa weighing heavily on her mind.

“Oh you really should rest dear.” A lovely middle-aged woman walked in carrying fresh linens and smiling sweetly at her. Logan stood suddenly to help her with the load. “Sophie you remember my wife Kida.” Sophie nodded although truth be told she had only vaguely remembered that her uncle was married and had only met her aunt once before shortly after they’d been married. “Our son Walter is playing somewhere in town but he’ll be home for supper. Mealtimes seem to be the only thing he‘s ever on time for. He’ll be thrilled to finally meet you; Logan speaks of you so often after all.” Kida laughed warmly. Walter? Now that Sophie thought back, Reaver had mentioned that Uncle Logan and his wife had had a son, but after everything that had happened recently, she’d completely forgotten. Logan seemed caught up in conversation with Kida so Sophie took the opportunity to slip out of the house unnoticed. 

She smiled as she set out to find a horse she could purchase. She still had no idea where to go from here and after her encounter with Theresa, she wasn’t sure her Uncle Logan would know either. Everything in Aurora seemed so different from Albion. The houses appeared to have been built out of the surrounding sand, the clothing seemed strange to her and she couldn’t even begin to describe some of the wares being sold in the market. Finally, she decided to ask a passing villager just where she might buy a horse. The man seemed unsure at first as though he’d never heard of a horse before today. But soon he pointed her toward the docks saying that was the best place to purchase such means of transportation. When she got to the docks all she found was man selling the strangest animal she’d ever seen in her life. It was about the size of horse with a thick tan coat, small eyes, and a large hump protruding from it back. “It’s called a camel, princess.”

She turned to Devon inexplicably stricken with the desire not to be alone with him. This is silly she thought to herself. Why should I be suddenly afraid of him? He saved my life on that ship and Reaver trusts him. Shouldn’t that be proof enough that she had no reason to fear him? Devon grimaced unpleasantly at the camel as she reached up to pat it. “Careful princess, they tend to spit. I have no idea why Reaver likes these damn filthy beasts so much.” Sophie laughed lightly. “Perhaps they remind him of you.” He looked at her smiling thinly. That was just the sort of thing Reaver would’ve said. He found himself both liking and disliking the fair princess, it was a complicated emotion, and he didn’t like complicated emotions. He liked to leave such things to Reaver who seemed to revel in complexity. He watched Sophie as she purchased the animal as well as a second; expressing the expectation of his accompaniment on her quest. Not that he wasn’t planning on doing just that. After all, it wasn’t very often that he got the opportunity to steal something from the great former Pirate King and Devon had decided that he wanted the princess. He only wanted her because she was Reaver’s and he knew that but he felt Reaver had done the poor girl a disservice by not bedding her. Something Devon intended to do one way or another. 

He followed her as she led the animal back toward Logan’s home. God how he hated the heat in this god forsaken wasteland. Why anyone would choose to live here, he would never know. “Sophie there you are. Logan was ready to send a search party.” Kida laughed pleasantly. “Where is Uncle Logan? I need to talk to him.” “He’s inside with Walter.” Sophie left her aunt with Devon and stepped inside in search of her uncle. Gleeful laughter echoed as she walked through the house, glancing into the rooms. She stepped into the largest room of the house, glancing at the strange furniture. Large cushions placed around a large low table, lanterns hung lazily from the ceiling casting a soft glow about the room. “Sophie, where did you wander off to?” She turned smiling brightly. “Uncle Logan, I was just looking for you.” “Daddy, I found you.” Walter ran into the room, stopping abruptly when he saw Sophie. “Who is she?” “Your cousin Sophie.” “Oh.” He paused looking up at her uncertainty written across the small features that so resembled his father’s. “Why are you here?” “Walter!” Logan scolded casting a glare at his young son trying to ignore Sophie’s amused expression. “Go help your mother with supper.” “But daddy… do I have to?” “Yes.” Walter muttered begrudgingly as he shuffled out of the room sullenly. “So…why are you here?” He turned his gaze toward her a suspicious glint in his eyes. “Daddy sent me to see if you knew where Reaver had gone. He needs to see him about the proposals he had sent him; apparently, Page is having fits over a couple of them.”

He stared at her as she watched him, gauging his reaction. She was lying and he knew it but the ease of which the lie came to her astonished him. Hell the lie itself was even good. Under any other circumstances, he wouldn’t have questioned it. “Uncle?” Her questioning voice tore him from his thoughts. “Come with me.” He motioned for her to follow him and left the room without looking back to see whether or not she had. She caught up to quickly her small feet falling into step with his long stride. “I don’t know where Reaver is and I’m not sure why you think I would.” “Well like I said daddy sent me. He thought you might know because Reaver visits you often…often enough anyway. Besides he thought I would enjoy visiting you and Walter.” “Ahh…I see.” They stepped outside into what she supposed served as a training area. Logan walked to a small shed as she fiddled with one of the training dummies. The hint of a small smile touched the corners of his thin lips as he carefully chose a couple swords and turned toward her. “Walter isn’t here Sophie, hasn’t been for months. Something your father is well aware of. So what exactly are you up to young lady?” She smiled guiltily knowing he’d caught her. “Well…I…wanted to see you.” “And?” he prodded tossing her a sword. “And see if you maybe knew where Reaver was?” 

He advanced swinging his blade gracefully. “You know as well as I do that Reaver has a tendency to wander off whenever he pleases. Why so interested in his whereabouts?” She blocked his advance and attacked him clumsily. “I told you, Father wanted me to find him.” He glared knocking the sword from her hand easily. “Don’t lie to me Sophie. You’re father has never once sent anyone to find Reaver and he isn’t going to start now. And he certainly wouldn’t start by sending you. Why do you really want to find Reaver?” She huffed frustrated at the ease in which he saw through her. “He left and…I…need to know why.” He looked at her speculatively. “Wh…” He scowled angrily as realisation struck him. “I see. Well I’m afraid I can’t help you. And frankly, I wouldn’t if I could. You’ll be headed home on the first ship tomorrow morning.” “But Uncle” “No. Trust me Sophie it’s for your own good. You should never have had anything to do with Reaver to begin with.” She glared at him defiantly. “Fine! I don’t need your help! I’ll find him myself!” She stamped her foot petulantly and stormed off pushing past Kida as she left. “What was that about dear?” “Nothing, I’m just trying to keep her from doing something stupid and she’s being stubborn.” He growled. “Perhaps searching for Reaver isn’t something you should keep her from doing?” He turned to her astonished. “How did you?” Devon told me, when I’d asked him why Sophie was with him. He says that Reaver genuinely cares for her. And even if he doesn’t if you don’t help her it won’t stop her.” “I know.” He sighed “But she’s so young.” “I know love but she’s as stubborn as you and Roren. You can’t protect her forever. She has a better chance if you help her.” 

“Logan doesn’t understand Sophie. He has never understood what it takes to safeguard Albion. He cannot be trusted to help you.” Sophie scowled unpleasantly crossing her arms across her chest. “Look here you he’s my uncle and I trust him a great deal more than I do you.” “You’re going to have to trust me Sophie.” “And why should I? Just because you helped my father defeat the darkness or because you helped my grandfather defeat Lucien?” Sophie sifted her weight staring at the blind seer expectantly. “I did what was best for Albion as I’m trying to do now. You must head through the desert, the answer lies at the edge of its vast dunes.” Sophie woke suddenly squinting against the morning sun. She dressed quickly and climbed out the window. She had no intention of letting her uncle stop her from finding Reaver. She crept through the stables unhitching the camels. “And where do you think you’re going?” She turned toward her uncle’s soft voice. “You’re not going to stop me.” “No Sophie I’m not. You’re going to do this whether or not I help you. I suppose as your uncle the right thing to do is help you in anyway I can.” He grabbed the reigns from her and left the stables. “Come on I know a better way to get across the desert.” She followed him toward the docks listening with rapt attention. “I don’t know where Reaver is but in your brother’s last letter he mentions he knew a man who knows Reaver well. Walter referred to him as Garth. Perhaps he can help you.” “Great! Where do I find him?” “Samarkand and I’m giving you this to help you get there faster.” She followed him around the corner. “Oh my…by the gods. What is that?” She gasped “The prototype of the very first Reaver Industries airship.” He smiled broadly. “Reaver thought I might find it useful someday.” “He gave this to you?” “Yes.” He nodded. “And now I’m giving it to you. I’ve hired a crew and the ship has been fully supplied.” She stared in awe at the magnificent vessel. “Devon will be joining you by the way. Although I’d rather he didn’t.” He grimaced. “He’s already on the ship, it’ll be taking off soon, but before you go.” He pulled a thin beautiful sword from his belt. “For you.” “But I already have a sword.” She pulled out her own sword with difficultly. He laughed lightly. “Yes, one that is far too heavy for you. This is a rapier. It’s much lighter and far better suited to you.” She took the rapier from him gauging the weight swinging it gracefully. She hugged him tightly. “Thank you Uncle Logan.” “Be careful Sophie.” I will.” She started toward the ship but then stopped suddenly. “What do you know about Theresa the Seer? She keeps coming to me in dreams, and she makes me uneasy.” “She helped your father. If she is coming to you then it is for good reason.” Sophie nodded and headed for the ship. He watched her board the ship an uneasy feeling settling over him. 

Sophie stood on the deck watching the city disappear as the ship took off. She smiled broadly, the hot wind on her face. “We should’ve just taken the camels.” Devon grumbled behind her. “Why this is so much more exciting!” She laughed leaning over the edge. “Besides I thought you hated camels.” “I certainly like them better than being stuck in one of Reaver’s crazy contraptions.” He hissed unpleasantly “His head always up in the clouds, why can’t he just keep his feet on the ground like everyone else?” She smiled at him mockery shining in her eyes. “Not afraid are you?” “Anyone with any sense would be afraid to get into anything Reaver thought up.” “Well I think it’s brilliant.” He huffed indignantly. “Then you’re as foolish as him.” She watched as he stalked off below deck, shoving past Mr. Cash. “Someone’s in poor mood.” “He doesn’t like the airship too much.” Cash laughed standing beside her. “No he wouldn’t. He can’t stand any of the old captain’s ideas, doesn’t do well with change. Crew says sandstorms coming we need to get inside princess.” Sophie followed him below deck unaware of Devon’s watchful gaze from the shadows. He skulked through corridors of the ship as sandstorm began its assault in the vessel. Reaver built a good strong ship there was no denying that and that was precisely the problem. This vessel would no doubt get them to Samarkand unless he found a way to bring it down. The crew ran about frantically ignoring him as he made his way down to the engine room. He pushed open the heavy metal door the stifling heat weighing down on him. “What are you doing down here?” He drew his sword and ran it through the engineer’s chest. “Just taking a look around mate.” He smiled sadistically, letting his blade slip from the dying man’s bleeding body. “Hope you don’t mind.” He looked around the room at the numerous knobs and levers, cursing to himself. He never understood these goddamned contraptions Reaver built. He kicked the engineer’s lifeless corpse in impotent rage. “I should have left the bloody bastard alive a little while longer.” He glared at the engine before his gaze fell upon a box of explosives in the corner of the room. Smiling broadly, he pulled open the engine hatch flame reaching out enthusiastically eating up the fresh air supply. Laughing to himself, he tossed the explosives into the engine and ran for the exit.

Sophie and Cash stood beside the captain at the helm when an explosion tore through the hull of the ship. “What the hell was that?!” Sophie ran up to the deck, pulling her cloak over her face to guard from the sand that beat against the ship like a whiplash. She leaned over the side. Half the ship was engulfed in flame and they were going down fast. “Captain it looks like the engine room exploded.” She hollered to the captain and Cash as they ran up on deck behind her. “Shit without engine we’re screwed. We need to find away to slow down our descent. It’s the only chance we’ve got of living through this!” He ran below deck calling orders to every crewmember he saw. “Brace yourself princess it’s going to be rough ride!” Cash called gripping the side of the ship. Sophie looked around at the crew desperately attempting to slow the ship. She glanced down at her gauntlets an idea coming to her. She ran to the front of the ship, climbing up on the rail. “What the hell do you think you’re doing princess?!” “Slowing down the ship!” Sophie called back to Cash. She charged her vortex spell and shot it toward the ground. Devon ran up on deck, the ship was slowing. Not much but it was slowing down. “What is she doing?” He called to Cash. “Using that magic of her’s to slow down the ship.” Devon stared at her angrily, what a clever little bitch she was turning out to be. Sophie jumped off the rail and ran toward them. “Hang on, we’re going to hit!” They braced themselves for the impact as the ship crashed into the sandy dunes, the world becoming a flurry of flames and debris before going completely black.


	9. The Canyon Dwellers

Sophie woke, the bright desert sun blinding her. She cried out in pain when she tried to move, looking down she saw that her legs were caught under the wreckage. Struggling to free herself she looked around desperately hoping someone else had survived the crash. Her eyes fell upon nothing but the charred corpses of most of the crew, guilt beating down upon her heart like a child upon a drum. If she had acted even a moment sooner these men might have lived. Shaking her head lightly she bade those thoughts from her mind. The time for regret and repentant tears would come later. The air was thick with smoke burning her eyes and nostrils, through the crackling of the flames devouring the wreckage she could hear the sharp bellowing of camels. She laughed suddenly, a laugh she could hardly believe was her own. It was a short, harsh little laugh,mirhtless and frenzied. How those two animals managed to survive apparently unharmed was a mystery to her. She laid there in the sand her efforts to free herself futile, listening to the mingled sounds of violent flames and terrified camels, laughing that pointed laugh.

Cash rummaged through the wreckage, the surviving members of the crew close behind, all hoping to find the princess their hearts palpitating for fear of what they might find were she found. “Princess!” They called out to her through the smoke. “Perhaps we should split up, cover more ground. We might find her faster.” Devon suggested casually smiling at Cash. Cash glared at him suspicion boldly written in every hard line of his face. Though he could not prove it he knew Devon was responsible for the wreck. He knew it just as surely as he knew Devon meant the princess harm. Devon was right though, if they had any chance of finding the princess alive they needed to cover as much ground as possible. “Fine, half of you go that way. The rest of you come with me and Devon.” As the two parties seperated Devon took Cash aside. “Just what exactly do think you're doing old man? If I recall I'm your captain, you take orders from me. Not the other way around.” he growled menacingly. “Tis indeed the cap'n that gives orders.” “Then you'll do as I say and go with the other party.” Devon growled storming off. “I don't think so Devon.” Devon turned on him “Excuse me Cash, I don't think I heard you right” “No you heard me right. Ye see Devon ye may have taken the title but ye ain't me cap'n. My loyalties are with Reaver. That young lady means somthing to him and I'll be damned if I'll let you hurt her. Besides however would you explain it to Reaver.” Cash grinned smugly. “You're treading on thin ice old man.” Devon growled menacingly as Cash joined the rest of the group. He followed close behind scowling. Cash was talking to the crew when he caught up, apparently they hadn't found the princess but they did find the camels. “You've got to be kidding me. Those mangy beasts managed to survive.” He huffed crossing his arms. Cash and the crew ignored him and continued discussing their next course of action. Irritated Devon stepped away aimlessly wandering toward the largest part of the wreckage. He stopped looking around him. “Was that laughter?” And then he saw her out of the corner of his eye. Sophie was trapped under the wreckage, he could see from here that she wasn't getting out on her own . Drawing a dagger from his boot he snuck toward her. Admittedly it would be a shame to get rid of her but if she did manage to find Reaver the Shadow Court was certian she would find a way to free him from their grasp. Why they wanted to keep hold of Reaver so badly he didn't know and if he was to be completely honest it bothered him somewhat but not enough to divert him from his assigned task. The Shadow King wanted him to kill the princess so that's what he was going to do. He just hoped Reaver never found out about it. “Hey over here I think Devon found something!” Devon turned quickly stashing the dagger, his jaw clenching as the cabin boy ran past him. “Princess, are you alright?” Sophie turned toward the boy kneeling beside her; her eyes unbelieving and her mind reeling. She reached up touching his cheek lightly, his face was covered with soot but he was there. “You're real.” She whispered relief washing over her. “He smiled “Don't worry your majesty we'll get you out of here.” “Tom where are you? What did you find?” She sat up as best as she could hearing Cash's voice hollering out. “I’m over here Mr. Cash!” Cash ran toward her followed by Devon and a few members of the crew. “Are ye alright princess?” “I’m stuck.” “Don’t worry, we’ll get you out.” She nodded grimacing in pain. “Alright but please...hurry.”

“We'll never get this off her by ourselves men.” Cash said examining the wreckage. “We need some sort of leverage. Maybe a pole or beam or...” “Something like this Mr.Cash?” Tom asked pointing to what had been a support beam only a few hours earlier. “Yes! That's perfect. Perkins help me with it.” Cash and Perkins easily pulled the beam free. They wedged it between the ground and the debris. “Come on and help us you lazy lout!” Cash glared at Devin. “Oh I suppose if I must.” He sighed shrugging lightly. Grunting the crew pushed as hard as they could till at last they managed to lift the obstruction. “I don’t think we can lift it any higher princess.” “That’s alright I think…I can wriggle free. Yes!” Sophie pulled herself clear of the wreckage, she grabbed onto Perkins for support hissing. Her left leg was covered in blood, there was a large gash on there that went from her ankle all the way to almost her knee. “What happened?” she questioned turning to Cash. “To be honest, I’m not sure but I think the engine blew. We lost most of the men in the explosion” “See told you not to trust Reaver’s insane contraptions, we’re lucky that any of us survived.” Devin scolded. “Hmm, be that as it may we should get going Cash, it won't be long before a crash like this attract Sand Furies and her majesty is hardly in any condition to help fend them off.” “Honestly, I'm alright.” Sophie insisted pulling away from Perkins falling as soon as she put weight on her leg. “You alright there princess?” Devon grinned. She glowered at him as struggled to stand. She sighed heavily as Perkins gently scooped her up. “I'm sorry your highness but it's best if you stayed off that leg for awhile, at least until we've gotten back to Aurora where the healers can give it a good look.” “NO!” Sophie struggled to free herself from him grasp. “We can't go back!” Cash stepped forward his voice kind and placating. “But princess we're still days away from Samarkand and you need care as soon as possible.” She shook her head adamantly “If we go back Uncle Logan will take one look at my leg and insist on sending me home.” “But Cash is right Sophie, going back to Aurora is the best course of action here.” Devon simpered wryly. “I don't care. All of you can go back if you want but I'm going to Samarkand. I have to see Garth, he's the only person who might have any idea where Reaver's gone. I'm going, even if I have to crawl all the way there I'm going!” Sighing Cash nodded, there was no point in arguing with her. If she recieve any trait at all from her uncle it was his stubborn resolve, a resolve even Reaver found difficult to resist. “Mr. Cash.” Tom spoke timidly pulling along a camel behind him. “Perhaps the princess could ride this until she's able to walk. We've packed what little supplies we could find on the other one. There should be enough for us to get to Samarkand if we ration but there is a outpost we can resupply at if we need to.” “Well done Tom.” Cash smiled “Since this is your quest princess it is ultimately your decision and I think you've made your position on the matter quite clear.” Perkins placed her on the camels back as softly as possible. “If this is the plan then we'd best be going. Perkins do what you can to mend her leg and Devon up front with me, you're the best fighter we've got for now.” Sophie watched everyone assemble as Perkins tended to her leg, he was surprisingly gentle. He was a tall, strapping man swarthy and broad shouldered. He should've been intimidating but he was genial and kind. Admittedly she felt far more comfortable with this bear of man than she did Devon, there always seems to be something sinister about Devon lurking just below the surface.  
“There you are princess, good as new.” Perkins smiled. “I know it's only a shirt sleeve but it should do for now. I am going to have to stitch it up when we make camp though.” “Thank you Perkins.” He nodded lightly, taking the reigns of the camel and following the rest of the ragtag party. Tom walked beside her camel staring up at her. “I...uh...found your gun and sword princess.” “Oh thank the gods.” she sighed relieved reaching for her weapons. “No no that's alright princess. I'm happy to carry them for you.” Tom hugged them close to his small chest, he couldn't have been more than thirteen. He looked wiry and spry his face split into an eternal grin. “Alright but only if you call me Sophie, it gets tiring having everyone refer to you by your title all the time.” 

The sun beat down on them furiously as they made their way over the landscape of endless sand dunes. Wiping her brow Sophie looked around, it was hard to believe anything could survive here let alone thrive as the people of Aurora have. Her leg felt better, Perkins had stitched it up the night before as promised and as far as she was concerned they would've been hard pressed to find any physician in Albion who could've done better. He told her it would scar though apologizing but she didn't mind. She was proud of it because it was proof. Proof that she had survived something no one at home would have believed she could. Her mind wandered leading as always to Reaver, the desert sands melted turning lush and green in her mind's eye. She was so engrossed in the memory that the stifling heat turned light and cool; the sounds of gossiping nobles and busy servants filled her ears. The desert had disappeared completely becoming Millsfields, with shaking hands she held a pistol in front of her aiming at a make shift target. She pulled the trigger flinching at the impossibly loud bang; missing and nearly hitting a terrified maid. “Well my dear that...was...well that was just dreadful.” Reaver giggled from behind her. “You're not exactly helping.” She turned on him crossing her arms and pouting. “And I suppose you'll stamp you're royal little foot now. You really are adorable when you're angry pet.” He grinned wickedly running his hand through his thick hair. Glaring she stepped forward poking his chest angrily. “Don't make fun of me! And I do not stamp my foot.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around. Wrapping his arms around her, her back pressing up against his hard broad chest. “Oh yes you do dearie.” He whispered. She shivered as his hot breath tickled her ear, he ran his hand down her arm sensualy. “Now aim, both eyes open,breath deeply and pull the trigger gently.” The faint scent of brandy,tobacco and spices she couldn't name filled her senses as she took aim and fired; hitting the target almost dead on. “See that wasn't so hard was it? Though I'd still say some practice is order.” He cooed teasingly, tickling her side playfully. “S...stop it.” She giggled trying to wriggle free of his arms. “Never.” He whispered into the shell of her ear, kissing her lightly. Bloodcurdling shrieks filled the air pulling Sophie back to the here and now. Perkins threw Tom on the camel unceromoniously “Hang on princess Sand Furies!” Sophie jumped down wincing in pain, running toward cornered men. “What are doing?” Perkins called to her. “They need help, get Tom out of here we'll be right behind you.” She commanded. Devon watched the ensuing battle with amusement as Sand Furies butchered most of the remaining crew, Sophie fought wildly firing at the Furies, slashing at their agile forms as she tried to defend the unarmed men. Hearing the shreikish battlecry Devon turned just in time to avoid being beheaded.. He grappled with the Sand Fury the both of them falling to the ground, she rammed the hilt of her sword against his head. His vision blurred as the world spun around him he looked up in time to the Sand Fury raise her sword moments from plunging it deep in his chest. Suddenly the Fury shrieked in pain bursting into flames. Sophie gripped him by the arm and pulled him up. “Are you alright Devon?” “Yeah just a bit dizzy.” “Good, we've managed to fight them off now but we should get going before they come back.” Though she was limping badly and almost certianly in a great deal of pain she ignored it something still felt off. “Thanks.” Devon grumbled. “You're turning out to be tou...” Sophie looked back in time to see Devon crumple to the ground, an odd looking man standing behind him holding wooden club with flint embedded into the sides. She saw large gash in the back of Devon's head before suddenly being knocked to the ground herself. Putting her hand to head she looked around. The new assailants captured each of the remaining men, killing some. Warm blood flowed freely down her face as her vision faltered, suddenly dizzy and nauseous she fainted.

“C'mon on princess. I think you've had enough beauty rest.” Devon hissed in her ear, helping her up as she shook her head. “Where are we?” She moaned. “I'd say...in a cage headed toward that canyon.” The corners of his mouth twitching in restrained amusement; his tone derisive. “Bright side though. We are still headed in the direction of Samarkand. You'll just probably not live long enough to see it.” “You're not helping.” She scolded “Now how do...wait...are these human bones?” Her breath hitched as she examined the bars of the cage that were indeed made of human leg bones. Alright she thought to herself, stay calm, don't panic. “How long was I out?” “About two days, wherever we're going we'll be there soon.” “I think you mean now Devon.” Cash whispered from the cage beside them. Sophie stared nervously up through the bars at the canyon walls. “This is bad, really bad. What happened to Perkins and Tom?” “They probably died like most everybody else or they were caught. Then their as dead as the rest of us.” Devon remarked darkly. He knew he'd live through this but it was still likely to hurt...a great deal and that thought darkened his mood considerably. “Actually they managed to get away. So there might be hope yet.” Cash muttered, Sophie nodded in his direction as they came to a sudden halt in the middle of a primitive village. “Good but if those two are going to doing anything at all to help they'll wait till nightfall, so far now we'll just have to try and hold out till then.” The warriors dragged them out of the cages, throwing them to the ground. The people of this village looked strange and sickly to her,their skin ashen and grey, she stared at them as the warriors led the them to a building that could only be described as a temple. A dark woman stepped forward and examined them each carefully, groping at their arms, and legs. Then she turned to the chief of this strange village speaking to him in a language Sophie couldn't even begin to comprehend. The chief smiled at them, a grotesque yellowed smile that would haunt Sophie for as long as she lived. They were taken to a dark room and thrown into another large cage with the rest of the surviving crew. They sat in their dark prison waiting for whatever fate their captors had in store for them as every now and then one of the villagers came and took one of them away kicking and screaming. Hours passed by endlessly leaving Sophie with only Cash and Devon for company, she found herself wondering what had happened to the others, if they were still alive. Wondering if Devon had been right, maybe they were all going to die. Suddenly their cell door opened and a small diseased looking girl came in carrying a tray of food. She placed it on the ground and left locking the door behind her once more. They walked over to the tray examining the barely cook pieces of meat. “Well at least we won't starve to death.” Sophie laughed nervously picking up some of the meat and eating it, Cash and Devon joined her tearing at the meat ravenously. It had been days since they had eaten and now that her hunger was sated Sophie slept. Tossing and turning she slipped into another restless dream. She was standing in an ancient temple dread weighed down heavily on her as looked around. Reaver stood in front of the three Shadow spirits each on his own throne, his gun drawn, he looked tired and disheveled. “Your time is up Reaver.” The middle shadow waved his dark hand and Reaver rose into the air writhing pain. His screams echoed through the cavernous room, Sophie ran toward him the world seeming to move in slow motion.She was suddenly pulled back reaching out her hand for Reaver calling out to him as he and the dream world around her faded. She sprung up breathing heavily looking around trying to regain her bearings. “Sophie?” Came a small voice from behind her, it was Tom standing next to Perkins. “I'm fine. Glad to see the two of you though.” She smiled weakly brushing the loose strands of her hair from her face. Tom handed each of them their weapons and he and Perkins led them out of the dark cavern that led from the cells to the temple. “Good to see you highness but we don't don't have much time for pleasantries. We've got to get out of here. It's about to really loud.” “Why would it get loud?” Devon whispered as they snuck through the halls of the temple. “We set bombs while they were sleeping.” Tom grinned mischievously. “Good job” Cash ruffled his hair. “Now where are the others?” “I think I know where they are Cash.” Devon whispered looking back at them. Sophie stood beside him, her eyes wide. He reached for her as she stepped forward toward the bloodied alter. Parts of the crew had been strewn around left to rot. She gasped as she realized what had been done here, what had happened to the others. “Oh gods...they ate them. We ate them.” She whispered falling to her knees and vomited; she broke out into uncontrollable sobs, hugging herself screaming. “They fed them to us! Ate...them! We...we...Oh gods...”Devon took her by the arm pulling her up and slapped her across the face with all his might, knocking her head to the side. She looked at him startled and hurt, her small hand covering her cheek, the red imprint of his hand shining bright underneath. “Get yourself together Sophie or I swear to the gods above I'll leave you right here. Now get up, we have to go while we still can.” She nodded standing straight. Perkins motioned for them to follow. “I've got a couple camels waiting.” He lead them down the corridor leading to the outside world the desert sun blinding them. All at once the village dissolved into chaos as explosions went off. Buildings burst into flames as people ran for their lives; the high priestess ran toward Sophie tackiling her to the ground. They struggled, rolling around on the ground; the priestess trying to bludgeon Sophie over the head. Warriors circled her companions closing in on them. The preistess looked down at at Sophie a crazed gleam in her eyes as she raised her weapon when suddenly a sharp,piercing cry filled the air and the preistess was lifted into the air. Sophie watched stunned as an enormous russet coloured bird carried off the screaming woman. The warriors abandoned Devon and the others chasing the bird, trying to save her. Cash grabbed Sophie by the arm. “Come on princess now while they're distracted.” They ran through the panicking crowd toward the camels. Mounting the hearty animals they rode off as the village burned following Perkins lead.  
Long after the canyon was far behind them Sophie stared back as though it was still right there. Self-digust tearing at her mind, her mind that refused to let go of the image of that alter, which would plague her nightmares for the rest of her days. She turned forward toward an oasis as large as the whole of Albion. The alter swept momentarily from her mind she sighed with relief. Soon she would see her brother and somehow he'd make this guilty pain in her heart go away. Garth would give her the information she needed and she'd find Reaver. Soon, soon because Samarkand now lay in front of them. Her quest was nearly done. Or so she thought at that desperate moment.


End file.
